


A Thousand Times

by manicbrat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Drama, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, Imprisonment, Lemon, Pining Draco Malfoy, Praise Kink, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Short, Smut, Torture, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:02:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28972509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manicbrat/pseuds/manicbrat
Summary: "So disparate now, Granger offered him no such desperation nor want for his sympathy. She didn't even have the decency to look surprised. Instead, she defiantly lifted her chin with her eyes unwavering, and spat directly at his feet."-DRAMIONE. VOLDEMORT WINS AU. SHORT STORY.TRIGGER WARNINGS APPLY.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 7
Kudos: 30





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> This story is dedicated to the amazing honeysweetcutie for not only inspiring me to take my stab at writing again but for giving me this prompt! Not to mention helping me through so much of it in general! Hope I can do you proud, Rae <3
> 
> It started off as a one shot because I can never commit to a long fic but it then I found myself 25k words in but barely done so now its a short story! No betas or anything so any mistakes are my own :) Looking back now it's like 50% angsty filth so enjoy ya filthy animals
> 
> Also, title is inspired by the son g A 1000 Times by Hamilton Leithauser! Definitely recommend giving it a listen

The first time Draco caught a glimpse of Hermione Granger since the fleeting flash of her brunette braid and pink jacket during the Battle of Hogwarts, it was somewhere he hoped in secret to never see her again.

Here, at the Manor, with limbs thrashing as Dolohov roughly dragged her down the stairs of the cellar and towards the dungeons that housed the latest catch. Where friends and foes of hers alike had begged for mercy for the better part of a year since the Dark Lord's monumental victory.

He especially did not hope to see her looking as worn as she did, with sunken and bruised skin beneath her fierce amber eyes and a snarl on her bleeding lip that curled as obscenities fell from her mouth.

He hoped that never in a million years would he have to look her in the eye again, especially not as their paths crossed on the stairs and her eyes lit up with what could only be described as rage. 

A look so different than the one of pleading and defeat that she had mustered with the last of her strength, as she lay bleeding and convulsing with the aftershocks of her relentless torture on his carpet. A look that had, at the time, made Draco's stomach twist violently with the threat of upheaval, leaving him with no choice but to avert his gaze and occlude until all he could see was a nondescript Jane Doe on the floor. A look that now, when he thought about it, made his heart burn with fire of his self hatred and his shoulders sag with the weight of his regrets.

So disparate now, Granger offered him no such desperation nor want for his sympathy. She didn't even have the decency to look surprised. Instead, she defiantly lifted her chin with her eyes unwavering, and spat directly at his feet.

Draco could do nothing but watch from where he was rooted on the spot as Dolohov continued his man handling, her screams echoing against the damp stone walls even long after she was out of sight.

-

The second time Draco found himself face to face with Granger was but a few weeks later, with her clad in nothing but the ratty remnants of what used to be a pair of denims and a fleece jumper. She was on her knees in the middle of the drawing room on that same carpet. If he allowed the walls of his mind to falter slightly, he could recall in his memory that she was in precisely the same spot as when Bellatrix had had her fun.

_How poetic_ , he thought bitterly. _What are you going to do about it this time, you coward?_

As it is, all Draco managed to do was remain shell shocked in the archway of that very same room as her eyes locked onto his once again. He couldn't look away if he tried.

Granger's entire body was wrapped in slithering silver tendrils, tightening around her appendages and preventing her from the luxury of even a simple rise and fall of her chest. They bound her elbows together behind her back, and her legs together just above the knees. They wove and spun around her throat and across her ribs. Draco could see the way she was gasping for air but her eyes gave nothing away.

Behind her, his aunt towered in her black leather and a flowy skirt, the spitting image of the very dementors Draco would deny to his grave that he feared. Not to nurse his ego and dignity, no, but rather to prevent himself from thinking too much about how all the shite he gave Potter back in their third year was more of a projection of his own fears.

How everything was, really.

Draco briefly entertained the thought of Potter, someone who was supposed to swoop in and save the Wizarding World. That was the notion of hope reminiscent of a child. A child that Draco had once been, a child who was scared and just wanted it to be over. Alas, Draco was a child no more. And Potter had not been seen since his eleventh hour escape upon a failed expelliarmus spell, and what looked to be Draco's very own wand splintered down the middle and smoking on the ground where he once stood.

Before the all too familiar dread began to set into his chest in a way he knew too well, he quickly inhaled and let his eyes flutter shut as he willed himself to begin reconstructing the walls of his mind that he had allowed to come crashing down for a moment of reminiscing.

When he was certain his eyes would reveal nothing but shades of gray, he met Granger's flashing ones again.

Bellatrix might have looked the part of a Dementor, but it seemed her interest was less rooted in the siphoning of souls and more on the siphoning of blood. Draco would have had to have been blind to not notice the blood pooling around Granger's frail and shaking form. He watched in a hazy cloud of occlumency as his aunt reared a long whip and lashed it against Granger's back unforgivingly.

Once, twice and a third time.

The raven haired woman cackled boisterously as she used her wand to draw up ribbons of Granger's blood and twirl them in the air around her in a display that might've been pretty had it not been so gruesome. Coils of crimson danced around them for a few moments until Bellatrix slashed her wand down and summoned it to rain all over the kneeling girl's head. Like her own personal dark cloud.

Still, Granger gave nothing more than a whimper.

Draco's own audible gulp broke him out of his reverie, drawing the attention of his aunt in the process.

"Ah, dear nephew!" she announced proudly. "I'm so very pleased you're here. Come along, Draco. Would you like a turn? I promise I'll let you have your way if you let me get a few more of these," Bellatrix smiled sadistically as she brought down the whip again as though to emphasize her words, "in."

This time, Granger allowed a strangled sob to escape the lips she'd been gnawing on to prevent her from doing just that. She looked absolutely devastated with herself. As though the sound she had solidified her defeat. Bellatrix gave a cruel squeal of delight and laughed as she extended a hand out to Draco.

Draco said nothing. He desperately wanted to take her away and hide her someplace far and safe. All the same, he did what he knew best: nothing.

He spun on his heel and fled without a second glance.

-

Later that night, armed with a book hidden under his arm and a vial of dittany in his pocket, Draco cast a disillusionment charm on himself and made his way out his bedroom and down the grand marble staircase. He knew exactly which floorboards to avoid, and which steps to mind his weight on lest he attract the unwanted attention of one of the many Death Eaters or their savage werewolf companions in the dead of night.

Since the Dark Lord's victory in May of last year, the once elaborate and pristine manor had turned into a dreary and cold dwelling for even the most vile and eerie within their ranks. The first night after the Battle had the men and women of His army drunk on more Odgen's than they could stomach and celebrating by defacing Hogwarts.

They had decided then that bringing the party back to the Manor would be ideal, both because it was large enough to accommodate their numbers and it acted as the insult to nail the coffin to Lucius' cowardice and failure. A few rounds of Crucios to Lucius delivered by Voldemort himself had loosened the snake's anger, and soon all was forgiven and forgotten. Voldemort's pride was much too inflated to dwell on their mistakes as a family and much too interested in the group of prisoners they had brought back for entertainment.

Draco was fairly sure the screams of the Patil twins as they were violated and later brutally tortured to death could still be heard; if only he let his eyes close and his walls melt.

_Thick walls_ , Draco hummed a quiet tune to himself. _Lay the cement over the bracing and watch it build until it's too tall and you can't see over the edge._

_Maybe one day the cement would swallow you, too._

Approaching the gate that led down to the dungeons, Draco held his breath and peered through the wrought iron. As suspected, Amycus and Alecto were nowhere to be seen. Presumably off engaging in acts Draco shuddered to think about but had confirmed his twisted suspicions. He wrapped his slender fingers around the metal and pried it open. To the extent of his knowledge, only one prisoner was being held down here currently.

Draco rolled his shoulders back and fine tuned his occlumency before removing the charm on himself, casting a silent _Lumos_ and descending the stone staircase cautiously. Instantly he was hit with the stale smell of the poorly ventilated area, and the back of his neck prickled with sweat at the sheer dampness of the dungeon. In the dark corridor, the only light came from the charmed torches hanging off iron brackets on the walls. He blinked as his eyes adjusted. He let his fingers trail along the jagged stone wall to the right of him, picking up on the condensation that could only be left behind in an underground place as stuffy as this.

He slowed to a stop in front of one particular cell, barely lit by a faint oil lamp charmed to never burn out. Craning his neck towards the metal bars, Draco ever so slowly lifted his wand up near his face and strained to make out a small figure huddled in the far left corner. At the intrusion of a brighter light, Granger lifted her head from where it had been between her knees and squinted in his direction.

As if a light switch went off, her look of trepidation and fear morphed into one of disgust.

"What, here to finish the job?" she spat bitterly, tilting her head back down to its original position.

Draco scoffed before murmuring a quiet unlocking charm made simple thanks to his familial ties to the Manor and quickly slipped inside the cell.

"What are you doing?" Granger snapped, though her tone lacked its usual bite.

"Be quiet." Draco hissed venomously, narrowing his eyes at her but feeling surprised at the dull tug behind his ribs at the way she recoiled.

He stepped further into the humid chill of the room but stopped short at the way Granger squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head to face the stone of the walls, angling her body away from him protectively.

"I'm sorry," she choked out, her voice thick with what Draco was sure were unshed tears. "Please don't hurt me."

Draco was at a loss for words. This was supposed to be Hermione Granger, Brightest Witch of Their Age and the sole reason why the Weasel and Potter made it as far as they did without dying. She was supposed to be strong. She was supposed to save them and help win the war. She was supposed to save him, too, whether she knew it or not.

An anger he did not know where to place suddenly coursed through his veins and throbbed at his skull. How dare she? How dare she give up so easily? Diminished to a begging mess on the floor after a mere few weeks.

"I'm not here to hurt you." Draco found his voice, now laced with obvious irritation. His grip on his wand tightened until his finger nails marked red crescents into his palm. "Get up," he ordered, stepping even further into the room.

Granger whimpered and tucked her head further against the wall.

His anger only grew at her response, rising like burning bile in his throat.

"Get the fuck up!" Draco shouted, losing sight of the cement that was currently melting through the cracks of his walls. He could see over the wall if he lifted his head slightly. He could see all too well. He stormed towards her sniffling form and wrapped a large hand around her upper arm, hoisting her aggressively to her feet.

Granger let out another sob and turned her face away from him.

"I'm sorry!" she cried. "Please!"

"Yeah?" He breathed, mouth all but pressed against her ear. "You're sorry? Pull yourself fucking together!" Draco spat through his teeth.

At this, her glazed over eyes snapped up to meet his. He saw something burn behind her irises.

_Good._

"Aren't you supposed to be the strong one? Single handedly saving the world and all that shit?" He goaded, relishing in the way animosity grew in her expression. The indignant look he knew all too well. The only one she ever offered to him.

He could feel himself barreling towards an invisible line, one that he knew he shouldn't cross. They hadn't exchanged more than two words since he cursed her with beaver teeth in fourth year, and they weren't exactly of the pleasant variety. He knew he didn't have the right nor the place to speak to her like this. Still, he blundered on. The walls had melted away completely and the only thing cutting through the red of vision was the promise of seeing her spirit bloom behind her eyes.

"Look at you know," Draco couldn't stop the words coming out of his mouth. "Reduced to a begging nothing in a few weeks. Pathetic."

Instead of its desired effect, his words seemed to hit her like a slap in the face. He watched in disgust as Granger's gaze fell between them and she went limp in his hold. Defeated.

His grip on her arm let up as though she had burned him. She immediately stumbled back into her corner and sank to the ground once again.

Draco slammed his own thick volume of _Advanced Rune Translations_ onto the small cot on the other side of the room. In a blind fit of rage, he retrieved the glass vial of Dittany from his pocket and dropped it at her feet. She made no move to catch it, as he expected, and watched as the glass shattered into a million pieces and as the essence seeped into the cracks of the stone.

Serves her right. She could heal herself with whatever she could salvage from the floor for all he fucking cared.

She seemed more than pathetic enough to try.

-

The third time Draco saw her, she was writhing on that same fucking carpet, ear piercing screams reverbrating around the vast room. This time, Bellatrix had the same dagger she used to scar her last year and was using it to carve into the bone of her right leg. The blade was poisoned by the look of the black smoke seeping out of Granger's wounds and the alarmingly rapid way she was bleeding out.

She was going to die like this.

_Do something you fucking coward._

Draco poured his cement. He dumped buckets of it, but no matter how hard he tried it would seep to the ground before it solidified and would leave him back where he started. He could feel his hands trembling at his sides so he clenched them into fists and tried to breathe instead.

He couldn't tell if the ringing in his ears was a result of his own rising panic or her gut wrenching screams.

"This ought to loosen your tongue, you filthy mudblood!" Bellatrix screeched as she continued her assault, digging the dagger in so deep Draco could see the gleaming white of Granger's bone in a chilling contrast to her blood.

_She's going to die like this and you're going to let her._

Another scream. His resolve crumbled along with what was left of his walls.

For a moment Draco pondered the poeticness of her dying like this, in the same room that haunted his nightmares and clouded his daydreams.

Before he could stop himself, Draco opened his mouth to speak. He felt his mother give him a warning nudge from where she stood at his right side, but he ignored it.

_Third time's a charm, or something like that._

"Perhaps her tongue is already as loose as it's going to get, aunt Bella." Draco drawled, doing a convincing job of maintaining his bored and haughty demeanour. If only everyone could see the way blood was gathering in his palms.

Bellatrix froze from her position above Granger, and slowly lifted her head to meet her nephew's eyes. Her dark eyes, nearly as black as her pupils, met him in an offended gaze. She released a puff of air from her mouth that lifted a stray curl out of her eyes.

"I beg your pardon?"

Draco audily gulped, but masked it with a proud clear of his throat.

"You need not beg, dear aunt. It's clear that if she was going to say anything, she would have said it by now." His voice trembled and he could do nothing to stop it. He released his nails from his palms and rolled his shoulders back. There was no going back now.

"Don't make me laugh, Draco. You suppose me to believe that she is not breakable? Like she wouldn't give up her beloved Potter if I twisted it just," the dagger still embedded in her leg twisted a full half turn, "like," even further she pushed. The smoke was coming out in large clouds now and Granger's mouth opened in another scream, but this time no sound came out. "This." Bellatrix concluded her trick by roughly dragging the dagger down the length of Granger's tibia, effectively slicing her entire leg open.

The blood began to audibly make sounds as it sloshed together all around her.

The witch smiled, all the wrong kinds of sweet. "In any case, the Dark Lord granted me permission to have my fun."

She twisted the blade from where it was still lodged in Granger's leg, now at the base of her ankle. The latter released an ear-piercing scream. Draco ever so slightly hunched forward, a pained expression clouding his face before he could stop it.

"Unless," his aunt whispered as she looked up at Draco once again. There was nothing he could do about the tears of frustration that had collected in his eyes and the way his hands trembled violently. "You've grown to care about this filth?"

Draco clenched his jaw and said nothing.

A look of disgust crossed Bellatrix's face as she pieced it together. With a wave of her wand, Draco found himself disarmed. The next moment, a thick leather rope shot out from her wand like a lasso and wrangled him in towards her.

His chest rose and fell heavily as he was brought almost nose to nose with his aunt. The unhinged look in her eyes unsettled him but he did his best to remain impassive.

Bellatrix pouted, "what would your father say if he knew you were besotted to the likes of her?" The dagger still in her hand traced a feather light pattern over Draco's Adam's apple and settled at the base of his throat.

"What would the Dark Lord say?" Bellatrix's eyes snapped to Narcissa, whom Draco couldn't see from his position but was thankful for it all the same. He didn't want to face the shame of looking at her after this.

"Sister," he heard his mother's impossibly put together voice speak. "Draco's choice to speak out of turn does not reflect sympathy for the girl. Release him and we'll speak calmly."

Bellatrix only scoffed and dipped her dagger into the hollow beneath his jaw, grazing the skin ever so slightly. That one small intrusion caused Draco to gasp at its sharp accompanying pain, and his eyes instantly fell to where Granger was laying, now mostly unconscious in a pool of her blood. His own was starting to trickle to the floor. If one small cut hurt as terribly as it had, Draco's dinner threatened to leave the safety of his stomach at the thought of what she had to endure.

"Is it true, Draco? You care about her? You want to bathe in her filthy blood?" Bellatrix said, her tone sweet and mocking.

Once again, Draco denied nothing. His heart was beating much too loudly and the rush of his blood could be heard in his ears. Even if he wanted to respond, he didn't think he could force the words.

Bellatrix tsked disapprovingly, shooting both Draco and Narcissa an almost sympathetic look as she released his binds.

Draco barely had a chance to catch his breath and straighten up before Bellatrix's shrill voice rang around the room again.

"Greyback!" She screeched, summoning the snarling werewolf from where he was on the other side of the room. "Show Draco to his new chambers. Make sure you bring his new dirty whore along. The Dark Lord will be most displeased at the missed opportunity of addressing Draco's treason personally. They shall spend their honeymoon in the cellar." She smirked at Draco's whose eyes had widened in horror as the weight of his aunt's words sank in.

Before he registered what was happening, his collar was gripped tightly in Greyback's dirty and calloused fist while Granger was being hoisted up by her matted hair in his other hand. She barely managed a weak moan of pain before submitting to the rough pull. Her hands fell limp by her side as Greyback dragged them out of the room, leaving nothing but a trail of their mixed blood behind.

_Third time's a charm, indeed._

-

The first day in that cellar after Granger regained consciousness was the most frustrating in his cruel life. She didn't take particularly well to waking up mostly healed, especially not courtesy of Draco's trembling voice murmuring what he could recall from his wandless healing training.

Greyback had violently thrown them down onto the dust laden ground and locked them in without a second glance back. Draco immediately jumped back to the wrought iron bars of the cell and attempted a spoken unlocking charm, but was promptly disappointed by the lack of authority he had from inside of the cell.

After a loud groan of frustration, he'd turned back to the still bleeding Granger laying on the floor. He cursed under his breath as he slid an arm around her back and another behind her knees, gingerly lifting her before setting her down on the cot. Draco had sunk to his knees at his bedside and channelled every bit of his magic into stitching up her wounds and trying to siphon whatever poison that had not dissipated in a black cloud of smoke.

His hair, damp from both sweat and the thick air of the room, hung over his forehead and collected droplets of perspiration at the tips as he murmured one incantation after another. His hands hovered over her leg as he swept them back and forth across in sync with his spells. He licked his lips, tasting salt and copper from where he'd chewed it raw.

With every successful stitch of tendon to muscle and bone, with every invisible thread stitching her skin together, with every drop of blood slowly seeping back into her body, Draco's hands steadied and the cement built. This time it didn't waver; it couldn't. Her life was at the stake of his hands.

_You can do this one thing for her._

A few hours later and after making sure she was no longer bleeding, Draco released a breath in relief at the faint but present pulse met by his fingers at her throat.

He collapsed to the floor, drained of both magic and energy, and let darkness overtake him.

When he awoke, it was with a start. He instinctively turned his neck to reach for his wand, but a sharp pull of pain in his extremely stiff muscles reminded him of his location. He let his head fall back to the unforgiving ground and ignored the dull ache forming in the back of his skull.

Draco felt exhausted. He was exhausted and by the faint glow of the lamp in the room, he couldn't tell what time of the day it was.

"What happened back there?" A quiet voice broke the heavy silence in the room.

Draco couldn't even find it in him to open his eyes and entertain her question.

"Hey!" Granger snapped, this time sounding closer. "I'm talking to you, you arse! I know you're awake." she added matter-of-factly.

If Draco concentrated hard enough, it sounded verbatim to the tone she would use when he would overhear her telling Weasley off for one thing or another back in Hogwarts.

He remembered the first time it made him feel something akin to envy.

-

_"Ronald Weasley!" Draco couldn't help but wince at the indignation and offence in her shrill tone. He rolled his eyes as he looked up from his parchment and set down his quill._

_This should be good._

_He watched as Granger furiously stomped, quite literally stomped, up to the library table that currently seated the Weasel and He Who Shall Never Die himself. Weasley's eyes snapped up to where Granger was approaching as a look of horror crossed his face. Potter merely looked confused, but watched with wide emerald eyes all the same._

_Draco smirked; he could almost hear the carrot top gulp from three tables away._

_"'Mione!" Weasley greeted, his voice cracking. "Fancy seeing you here...though not fancy at all I suppose. This is your table after all isn't it? Did I tell you how...erm...nice! Nice, yeah, how nice your hair looks today! New potion, I reckon." His face paled at his misstep. "Not that your hair doesn't look nice without the potion, mind you! I think it's brilliant! Matter of fact, mum was just telling the other day when she owled that-"_

_"You've got quite the nerve to run your mouth like that when I just found out that this," she slammed a roll of parchment on the table in front of where she was standing, "was a complete and blatant plagiarism of my work! Not to mention how outright embarrassing it was that Umbridge had to pull me aside_ personally _to inform me! As if that wasn't enough, I've got three weeks of the torture quill's worth of detention!" she cried._

_Draco's smirk tugged further at one side, and he promptly shook Pansy off his arm when she whined for his attention. He was too busy enjoying the free show._

_A show that, he'd like to note, didn't revolve around the way Granger seemed to fill her a shirt a bit more this year, or the way her curls bounced about her shoulders as she gesticulated wildly. He especially didn't notice the flush on her cheeks or the line that formed when she furrowed her brows._

_That would be preposterous, because Draco had no business noticing such things._

_The Weasel's mouth gaped in a way that resembled a fish out of water, his airy brain probably burning itself out with the effort of coming up with a retort._

_"Nothing to say for yourself?" She seethed. "Unbelievable! I've got half a mind to hex your bollocks up your throat!"_

_Draco couldn't even suppress his snigger at her threat._

_"You," Granger jabbed a finger right in his face, making him go cross-eyed as his eyes zeroed in on it. "Better take your sorry arse straight to her office and clear this up!" She demanded._

_Weasley immediately shut his textbook and stood so fast that his knees knocked the table, rattling it loudly. He nodded in a way that rivalled a bobblehead._

_"And you," she whirled in Potter's direction, who immediately stood up without prompt. "Go with him and make sure he doesn't lose his way!" The raven haired boy also nodded frantically._

_They stood staring at her._

_"What are you waiting for?" She exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. "Now!"_

_Both boys scurried away without another word._

_Granger remained stood by the table, her chest rising and falling heavily with the aftermath of her outburst. After a few seconds of her straightening shirt and smoothing her hair, she spun on her heel and stormed right back out of the library._

_-_

A wave of nostalgia washed over him, starting at the tips of his icy hair and making its way to the tips of his toes. He released a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

Why couldn't he have somebody that cared about him enough to call out and correct his mistakes? Why had he been stuck with Pansy who, in her journey of contributing to their patriarchal standards and her attempt at bagging a wealthy Pureblooded husband to sire heirs, only ever enabled him? Pushed him when he made a cruel remark, laughed at his twisted entertainment.

Granger would've knocked him upside the head at the first syllable of his barbaric jokes. Never encouraged him.

Speaking of which, she was currently clearing her throat obnoxiously. "Malfoy! I'm speaking to you!"

"Seeing as i'm the only other person in this cell, you insufferable swot, I can confidently say that I'm very aware that you are speaking to me." Draco snapped, swinging an arm over his eyes. "You're giving me a headache."

"Oh, pardon me, I'm so sorry you have to suffer through a headache at my hands." she scoffed sarcastically.

Draco finally removed his arm and sat up, taking a good look at her.

She sat back on her haunches at the foot of the bed, her arms folded over her chest in a way that made his heart ache with reminisce. Her hair was sticking up in all sorts of directions, probably a result of the humidity in the cellar. Curiously though, Draco realized she lacked any blood stains on her tattered rags. Matter of fact, she lacked the tattered rags completely. Instead, she was wearing a pair of black cotton trousers and a black long sleeve jumper to match.

She looked clean. She looked like herself.

Draco cocked his head to the side in confusion, eying her attire. Granger must've picked up on his unspoken question, because her fingers immediately dropped to the hem of her shirt and toyed with a loose thread.

"Your, erm, mother." She explained, her tone much softer now. "She stopped by while you were asleep. I only woke up a few hours ago."

Draco's eyes narrowed. His mother had been by and nobody had thought to wake him? Did she even try to get him out?

Granger sensed his building irritation, so she cleared her throat again. Gods, he could throttle her right about now if it meant to never listen to that sound again.

"She was here for barely two minutes. She cast a _scourgify_ on us, dropped off some clothes and a charmed basin." she nodded to the corner, where Draco saw there was indeed a moderately sized marble basin full of glistening water. It looked barely large enough for one person.

He turned and fixed his gaze on Granger again but said nothing.

She seemed unable to stand the silence, "she didn't even say a word. I was still trying to sit up by the time she was gone." she tried to console. "I'm fairly certain that she wasn't even allowed to be here, but seeing as her prized heir was now bathing in the mud, she found herself capable of breaking a few rules. Can't say I'm surprised, really, because-"

"Would you just _shut up_ for one second?" Draco snarled, pushing himself off the ground and towering over her. Eyes blazing, he carefully observed the way she flinched but raised her chin to challenge him nonetheless.

Draco whirled away from her and began pacing, but what with the miniscule size of the room and his longer-than-average strides, he was only taking two steps before turning in the other direction. He ran both hands through his hair harshly a few times before stopping on the spot and tugging at it.

He counted to ten through deep breaths, then set to visualizing the familiar steel formwork and taking his time with filling it with cement. The grip on his hair began to loosen and finally, when the wall was imposing enough, he dropped his hands at his sides. 

Turning back to face her, he could see that she had not moved an inch but was watching him closely.

"You're an Occlumens." It was a statement. One that Draco ignored.

"We're imprisoned," Draco began slowly. "Together." The word seemed foreign rolling off his tongue. He groaned in irritation, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek before taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

Granger's expression soured. If looks could kill, he'd be six feet under by now.

"Astute observation, Malfoy." She huffed. "Speaking of which, care to explain what exactly happened back there? And what happened to this?" She motioned vaguely in the direction of her leg.

Draco looked away. What was he supposed to say?

_My aunt figured out that I've some twisted crush on you because I couldn't stand to watch you bleed to death on that same fucking spot so I did the only thing I knew how and ran my fucking mouth, which didn't bode too well clearly because now we're both in here and- oh! Voldemort is most excited to make our acquaintance as we present ourselves as a new couple! Here comes the Mudblood and failed Deatheater, rejoice!_

"Malfoy." Granger pressed.

He turned to look at her, not even bothering to hide the look of disdain on his face. Gods, had she always been this annoying?

"Yeah?"

"Answer my question." Draco noted, albeit reluctantly, that her eyes looked like glimmering molten bronze in the faint golden hue of the room.

He looked away.

"It's healed." he stated bluntly, shrugging.

Her eyes narrowed into slits as she unfolded her legs from beneath her and stood a few feet in front of him. "Always the sharpest with you, isn't it?" she shook her head, folding her arms over her chest and lifting her button nose in the air. "Aside from the fact that you ignored my other question, the confusion is not of the state of my leg, as I am in possession of it and can feel that it's healed. My question is _who_ healed it. I have a hard time believing that _you_ of all people would soil your pristine hands with the likes of my Mudbl-"

"Don't," Draco hissed warningly, lifting a finger and pointing it at her. "Don't finish that sentence."

She stared at him with a look in her eye that he could not pinpoint.

Then, Granger laughed. She actually had the fucking audacity to laugh. A loud, melodic laugh without restraint. One that had her almost doubling over.

Draco brought the walls to the forefront of his mind to stop him from lingering on the warmth that pooled at the pit of his stomach at the sound of it. Regardless of the context, her laugh most definitely did _not_ sound like a symphony to his ears.

"What's so fucking funny?" He scoffed incredulously.

"That is so unbelievably rich!" she gasped through fading giggles, bringing a finger to wipe away a stray tear from her thick lashes.

Suddenly, her face set into cold stone and her eyes were glaring daggers at him once more.

"You expect me to believe, for even one second, that you've had a- a what? A change of _heart_?" Granger's voice was low, dangerously so, and she was stalking towards him.

Draco rolled his shoulders back and clenched his jaw.

"That hearing the word Mudblood makes you uncomfortable? Guilty? Well, good!" She was shouting now, her hands waving furiously all around her. "You don't get to decide, Malfoy! Not when you've been a thorn in my side for the past seven years! You don't get to decide that it makes you uncomfortable now because it made me feel much worse when i was only a little girl!"

The steel framework of his brain rattled, violently so, but he closed his eyes for a moment and let himself recollect his emotions.

When he opened them, she was not even a foot away from him.

"You have some nerve, you sick bastard!" She exclaimed, her face flushed angrily and her brows drawn together in anger.

Draco couldn't stop his next words from tumbling out of his mouth.

"Well I guess I should've had the nerve to let you bleed to death when I had the chance if I knew you were going to be an ungrateful bitch!" He bellowed, taking a menacing step towards her.

_You fucking idiot. Too late now._

Granger's eyes, once pools of honey now burned like a raging fire.

Before Draco knew what was happening, her hand had flown up and struck him square against his cheek. His head snapped to the right, both from the sheer force of her slap and the shock of it.

He brought a hand up to the left corner of his mouth, pulling it back to see gleaming drops of blood.

When he lifted his eyes to her again, ice met fire.

"Do that again, and I'll see to it myself that you'll be sorry." He snarled, tongue darting out to catch a drop of blood threatening to spill down his chin.

Granger wavered in her stance for a moment, then swiftly spun on the spot and threw herself down on the cot. She rolled over to face the stone walls and drew the flimsy blanket up to cover her shoulders, an air of finality cutting through the tension.

Draco stumbled until his back hit the wall, then slid down it with his knees tucked to his chest.

_Nice going, you bloody git_. _Somehow managed to make her hate you more._

_Twenty points to Slytherin._


	2. two

For the next few weeks, though Draco couldn't be sure as all the days seemed to blur in the blackhole that was this cell, they fell into somewhat of a routine.

One that made him want to rip his hair out, but a routine nonetheless.

He would awaken with a start to the teeth-clenching sound of obnoxious scraping, but then slump back to his heap of blankets on the floor when he realized it was only Granger using a chipped piece of rock to inscribe yet another line into the wall by her bedside.

The first time Draco observed this, he had inwardly questioned her sanity. He considered asking her what the hell she was doing, but a dull pain in his cheek and a throb in his skull reminded him to stubbornly seal his lips and ignore her altogether. He settled for a wandless silencing charm, groaning in frustration when his magic barely pusled.

Great. They'd suppressed his magic now, too.

The ignorance faired to be a mutual agreement, as she seemed dead set on pretending that the six foot four blonde giant invading her space was non-existent. Avoiding all eye contact with him, it was easy for Draco's bruised pride to swell in compensation for the bone crushing guilt he felt. He deserved her cold shoulder, he knew. He deserved much more. Yet still, he couldn't help but lick his wounds bitterly.

They had both said reprehensible things, hadn't they? Granted, Granger's verbal beating was much overdue, but at its essence they had both acted out of anger, had they not?

Draco passed the time by assembling and disassembling his walls. Good practice, he figured, but he never let the walls down for too long lest the tug behind his ribs increased at the sight of her back to him, curled up in the bed.

Exerting himself physically also helped dull the ache of his reality. He exercised whenever the fatigue wasn't overtaking him completely. Push ups, crunches, whatever he could manage within the confines of the cell. There was no harm in being prepared should he find himself in a compromising situation.

Granger passed the time by avoiding him in every way possible. She wouldn't even show him her face.

On their sixth day, Draco had tucked his tail between his legs out of sheer boredom and addressed her.

"Why do you do that?" He knew his tone sounded condescending, but he couldn't help it.

Granger said nothing, as he expected, and continued in her abhorrent wall assault.

Draco huffed in annoyance and turned his attention back to where he was tracing runes from memory in the water of the basin. He supposed being bored with her there was better than the anxiety that filled him with every awakening at the prospect of not hearing the scratching, but rather her screaming as it echoed from the drawing room above.

Yeah, he would take the boredom.

-

By the ninth morning -or was it night?-, when the scraping went on for longer than its usual few minutes and without any seemingly obvious sign of her stopping, Draco lost his temper.

"Can you fucking stop that?" He exploded, sharply glancing up at her from his corner on the floor. His finger absentmindedly trailed the damp pages of the book in his hands.

Though he had yet to see it, he was as certain as he was a Malfoy that his mother, or perhaps a house elf by way of her, paid them continuous visits in the late nights or early mornings. Almost every single day, a brown package tied up with white string arrived while they were otherwise indisposed. It was always a portion, though small, of whatever he assumed his family to be eating a few floors above them. Despite his anger towards them, he felt grateful that he at least didn't have to row with Granger over their food no thanks to the stale meals that had been provided to her once a day since she'd been imprisoned. Instead, Draco would drop the brown paper bag of edible food at the foot of her bed every time he found it by the cell door, and wait for the stale bread and meat that got delivered on a varying schedule each day.

Snapping the book shut dramatically, he set it aside next to him and focused his gaze onto her.

She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, facing away from him with the blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders. He could see her right hand, dainty but firm in its strokes of the stone. At his outburst, her hand stilled.

Slowly, she turned her head over her right shoulder and met his gaze. His Adam's apple bobbed visibly as he waited for her to respond.

She did not.

"Why do you even do that?" He pressed irritably, knowing he wouldn't get a word out of her but damn it if he didn't try.

"I saw it in a film." She said it nonchalantly, but Draco's heartbeat could be heard in his ears at the sound of her voice. It felt childish, but the giddiness at the hope of her speaking to him bubbled in his chest like a rolling pot of water.

"A what?" Draco replied hastily after realizing he'd taken way too long relishing in the sound of her hoarse voice without a response.

"A film. It's like a long moving photograph. It's a muggle thing. The prisoner always keeps track of their days." Her explanation sounded clinical, and lacked any of her usual fiest.

"Well, it's fucking annoying." Draco goaded. Merlin, was he actually trying to poke the lion?

"Bold of you to assume that I give a shite." She bit back.

If the corner of Draco's mouth tugged up in a half-smirk, he made no note of it.

"Seeing as we're currently stuck together and I don't have the means to cast a _Silencio_ on you and your obnoxious scratching, I would appreciate it if you would keep it to a minimum." Draco chastised, proud of the way she angled her body towards him further and stared at him incredulously.

"You're an insufferable git, you know that?" She scoffed, shaking her head as she shrugged the blanket off her shoulders and stood. He watched as she gathered all her hair in her hands and swept it to one side of her neck, leaving the expanse from her collar bone to below her ear wide open.

Draco's tongue involuntarily darted out to wet his lips, but he didn't respond.

"Hopefully the Gods will hear your prayers of irritation and have Greyback come fetch me again soon. It's been far too long since Bellatrix and I's last play date, wouldn't you agree?"

With one sentence delivered in an icy, low tone, any sense of hope was sucked out of Draco. It whooshed out of his chest as though physically winded, and his jaw clenched.

She was staring straight at him, challenging him. He rose from his spot on the floor and took a cautious step towards her.

"Isn't that what you wanted?" she crossed one arm over her chest and brought a pointer finger up, tapping her chin a satirical display of thought. Her eyes were glossing over, betraying the strength within her voice. "For me to bleed to death? I'd wager your wish to be granted soon."

She was mocking him.

"Look-" Draco began, not knowing where he was even taking this.

Luckily, Granger had decided for him.

"I don't want to hear it!" She exclaimed, hands thrown about her head in ire. "Harry will- _they_ will come for me. They're not going to leave me here to rot. Then, I'll be as far away from _you_ as possible!"

Draco scoffed. "Oh yeah? What makes you think I fancy being stuck here with you? I'm not your ginger boyfriend, or Potter even, so lets not pretend that I'm exactly blowing my top at the thought of you."

"Too right you aren't," she seethed, eyes wild. "And you never will be!"

He tried to ignore the sharp sting at her obvious words. _No, you're not her beloved Potter, or her beloved anything for that_. And she was right, he never would be.

"As though I would ever wish that fate on even my worst enemy!"

Her jaw dropped, shooting him a look of disbelief. "If you measured up to the bravery they had in their left pinky alone, it still wouldn't be enough to make you anything but a foul prat!"

"Oh please," he chuckled, mostly to cover up the bitterness of such a blow to his ego. How dare she compare him to Potter and Weasley? Since when had blatant idiocy and a lack of foresight equalled bravery? "Now you're just embarrassing yourself. It's bad enough you're going barmey scratching up the walls while you wait for someone who's never going to show."

"They will come!" Granger cried, stomping her foot in frustration.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he ran a hand through his hair and breathed a laugh. "You're fucking delusional."

"This is all very rich coming from you!" She huffed. "To compare yourself to them when you're nothing more than a- a shallow _coward_ who can't say no to mummy and daddy and can't even carry out a bloody Death Eater task properly!"

Draco's anger began bubbling and burning in his throat at a rate he couldn't even fathom. He'd lost all sight of the grounding cement by now, and his knuckles were turning white with the force with which he clenched them into tight fists. His chest rose and fell raggedly, and his eyes communicated a silent warning that she promptly ignored.

"The order will come for me. You can take that information and run to your snakes with it for all I care. They're planning something, I know it."

If it felt like she was saying it more to convince herself than him, he didn't dwell too long. He was too busy wrangling the ugly fury that was twisting like an endless coil in his stomach.

"Only thing that the Weasel is planning is who he wants to dip his cock in first now that you're out of the way! No doubt you couldn't put that mouth of yours that you love to run so much to good use!" He sneered.

An indignant gasp left her mouth before she raised her hand and swung it his way. This time, Draco reflexively caught her wrist in his hand. He gripped her hard, and as she struggled against him he only tightened his hold further. He knew he was hurting her, but he didn't care.

"I warned you last time." He breathed, their faces so close he could feel every heavy fan of her breath against his chin as she looked up at him. Her impassive expression gave way to fear, and it only egged him on further.

_Good. She should be scared. Let her remember who she's dealing with._

His eyes were wild as they scanned her entire face, relishing in the tears that were springing to the corners of her eyes.

"You're hurting me." She whimpered, no longer struggling but looking up at him pleadingly.

Draco's tongue darted out to wet his lips as he panted. "I'll break it if I have to."

"Malfoy, please!" she cried, her expression pained as she weakly tried to break free from his grasp.

All he could see was red. His other hand came up to grip her upper arm tightly, trapping her frail form completely and submitting her to his mercy.

Granger let out a sob as she dropped her head, her toes barely grazing the ground from where he had her grasped.

Giving her a rough shake for good measure, he dropped his mouth to her ear and spoke lowly. "This is the last of my patience with you, you hear me? Next time you pull some shit like this I won't hesitate to send for Fenrir myself. "

She nodded furiously.

"Good." He released his hold on her, reality only cutting through the haze of rage he'd worked himself into when she scuttled back a few feet. Dread filled him at the thought of what he'd just done. How could he lose sight of himself so quickly? Gods, she drove him _insane_.

Her breaths stuttered as she held her wrist to her chest, still looking at him.

"They will come." She persisted weakly. "And when they do come for me," she was whispering now with a heave of her chest that rivaled Draco's. "It won't be pretty. You'd do well to remember that."

With that, she had turned with a flick of her hair. Hair that had mocked him since his first day here, hair that he wanted nothing more than to wind around his hand and just _yank_ so she would listen.

Instead, he watched as she resumed her crossed legged scratching. With a loud groan of frustration, he sank back onto the floor and ripped the book back open.

The letters all blurred together, as a sting of frustration burned in his eyes, but she didn't need to know that.

-

For days after that, their routine persisted.

Granger ignoring him, Draco ignoring her right back.

The expanse of wall beside her bed was overcrowding with her inscribed lines, in addition what he recognized were runes and something else that he assumed was written in a foreign language.

He didn't say anything about her scratching anymore.

He read the same books over and over again until they were replaced with new ones, always setting them at the foot of the cot.

The brown parcels arrived without fail every day, and without fail he would add them to her pile on the bed. After every meal, she would discard the brown paper but never the white string. Draco thought it was curious, but was certain no good could come from demanding to know. Besides, what could she even manage with such flimsy rope?

Everyday the parcels arrived, until one day they didn't.

The first day that only a small tray of bread and a few sausages were delivered, Granger didn't even acknowledge the fact that her usual meal was missing. It made sense, she hadn't acknowledged him at all in days, why would she now?

Despite the quiet rumble of his stomach, Draco pushed the tray towards her cot when it arrived and returned back to where he was laying. He might be an utter arse, but he was raised with manners. Manners that didn't permit him to eat when she hadn't yet. With a swell of a small victory, the idea that he might have finally done _something_ right, he drifted off into sleep.

As it was, the victory appeared to be very short lived.

Sitting up with the remains of sleep forcing his eyes shut, he rubbed at them in an effort to help wake him up. Just as quick as his eyes finally opened, they narrowed into slits.

There it was, the tray with the food offering he'd made, sitting right in the middle of the room. He glanced over at Granger, who was in bed with her back turned to him as usual.

That infuriating little witch! He couldn't believe it. Trust her to make even the most trivial affairs maddeningly difficult.

Fine. Two could play at that game. If she didn't want to eat, they'd both starve. Bugger it all.

One the third day of the tray magically vanishing for the night and showing up again, untouched by either of them of course, a loud rumbling echoed across the room.

Draco looked up from where he was currently laying on the floor, knees bent and arms folded behind his head as he completed his fourth rep of sit ups. She was sitting in her bed with her legs crossed, but this time she was facing him with a book in her hands.

Her face flushed a brilliant red as her stomach rumbled once more, not even looking up from her text.

Forgoing the sit ups, Draco pushed his damp with sweat hair back and stood up. Without saying a word, he crossed the room and scooped up the tray before setting it on the mattress in front of her.

"Eat." He said simply, turning around and taking a seat in his usual corner.

Before he had even glanced up again, a clattering sound alerted him to her movement. His eyes snapped down to where the tray was on the floor, then back up to where she was situating herself on the bed again. This time, she didn't pick her book up again but rather crossed her arms and stared at him defiantly.

Draco blinked at her in disbelief.

Was she serious? Merlin, he'd never met such an annoying woman in his life.

He leveled her gaze. "Eat, you silly bint. Unless you'd rather starve to death before your beloved boyfriend has a chance to rescue you?"

"I don't need your false sympathy. Besides, I'm not even hungry." She protested.

For a moment, Draco thanked the Gods that he was sitting, because he was sure that his knees would've failed him at the sound of her voice, cutting through the tension in the pit of his stomach. It seemed like so long since he'd last heard. It flowed like honey and syrup and everything of such viscosity, and if he closed his eyes, he could almost taste how sweet it was.

Sweet fucking Salazar, did he just compare her voice to honey? He was going stir crazy in here.

It was just a moment, though. A fleeting moment until he was reminded of how utterly exasperating she was, which prompted him to go back to being annoyed.

"I'm sure that all of Britain can hear your stomach. Let's do them a favour and put them out of their auditory misery." He drawled, waving an impatient hand in the direction of the food. "Stop being stubborn and just eat."

She rolled her eyes and lifted her nose. Any higher and he'd see into her brain. "How hypocritical! I don't see you eating either."

"That's because I wasn't raised a complete mongrel, believe it or not."

"Could've fooled me." she scoffed, a sound that rang in his ears and crawled under his skin, filling him with ire.

"Look, I don't care that you hate me and would rather starve than concede. But at this rate you're either going to starve to death or be weakened until you can't handle the next time my aunt gets bored and then Potter will have nobody to save." A panic swelled inside him at the realization that his tone, despite his words, was pleading in nature. Granger must've noticed too, because the fire in her eyes gave way to embers.

Draco quickly turned away from her, and resumed his workout. "Can't have Potter disappointed, can we?" He added in a sneer, though he knew his facade was see through. Where were those damn walls when he needed them?

"We could share." She offered, her words soft.

His pace faltered. "What?" He breathed.

Granger's fingers found the hem of her shirt, toying with it as she looked anywhere but at him while she spoke. "We could share. I'm sure you're hungry too."

For a reason Draco could not even begin to comprehend, a lump formed in his throat. He watched as she gazed at him through her thick lashes, a bashful look painting her already reddened face. Merlin, she even blushed pretty.

Shaking his head as though he could rid himself of such absurd thoughts, he sat up fully and faced her.

He swallowed hard. "You need to eat." His voice shook, betraying him.

"Here," she murmured, unfolding herself from the bed and sliding to her knees in front of the tray. She picked up the miniature loaf of bread and tore it into two pieces. Taking her bottom lip between her teeth, she looked up at him shyly and extended a timid handful.

Like a man compelled, Draco couldn't even think of the reasons why he should deny. Hell, if his head was on straight he would've denied her offer just to spite her the way she so often did him.

Presently, it seemed, his head was spinning with the sound of hard cement crumbling and crashing to the ground. Lost in the cloud of debris that it managed to kick up, he found himself crawling the short distance towards her before resting on his haunches. Her dainty hand was still extended towards him, and if he watched closely enough, he could see it tremble.

Without dropping his gaze from hers, he reached out slowly towards her.

He inhaled sharply as he accepted the food from her, the tips of his fingers accidentally brushing over hers. A jolt ran up his fingertips, filling his entire arm with a tingling sensation.

Granger released a soft gasp, drawing her hand back to her chest and cradling it with her other like she'd burnt it. Immediately, she scrambled off the floor and back to the cot, taking a nervous bite as she cracked open her book once more.

Embarrassment flooded Draco like a bursting dam, cheeks flushing a brilliant red that rivalled hers. Since when had his temperament resembled that of a school boy? One touch from her and he was spiralling.

Sighing as he flopped back onto his bottom against the wall, he ate and chewed slowly with eyes trained intently on her.

Potter couldn't come fast enough, even if it meant getting thrown in Azkaban. Anything to put an end to the infuriating push and pull that he couldn't manage to untangle himself from.

-

"Are you quite finished? There's nothing left to read."

Draco glanced up as he dog-eared his page. A smirk formed on his lips as he watched Granger visibly wince at the offense. "Sure there is." he retorted, nodding his head towards the stack of books tucked under the bed.

"I've already read those!" She whined.

"So read them again."

"I have. Three whole times, as a matter of fact."

"That, unfortunately, sounds like a you problem."

"Malfoy! I want to read that one!" She crawled towards him and sat back on her calves, hands folded in her lap as she peeked over the copy of _Spirits and Beings: A Revision of Paranormal Classification_ in his hands. Draco snatched it away and shut it.

"Well I'm reading."

"I have a hard time believing you're interested in the spirits of Hogwarts! You're just being spiteful!" She grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting.

"Beings."

"Excuse me?"

"They're beings, Granger. According to Clagg's revision in 1613, they're classified as beings."

"That's preposterous." Granger scoffed, rolling her eyes. "They belong to the same category."

"Hardly," Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "The ghosts that roam Hogwarts are classified as beings under the decree that they could speak the human tongue. That invalidates the theory that they're spirits, in addition to the fact that they glide rather than walk anthropomorphically. According to Clagg anyway, considering Muldoon's classification of it went null 1813."

Her mouth flopped open and closed several times as she struggled to come to terms with the possibility that she could be wrong. It made Draco break out into a grin.

"That- that _hardly_ makes any sense." she attempted to save her pride weakly, but as Draco's grin grew wider she rolled her eyes again. "In any case, that just proves why you should let me read it. Heavens forbid I lose sight of my paranormal classifications!"

Satiated with the feeling of having bested Granger, he brought his middle and ring fingers up and tapped them twice against her temple gently. She recoiled sharply at first, but didn't back down entirely.

"Looks like you're losing your edge, Granger." He let his grin fall into a lopsided smirk, with only a glint of teeth peeking. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt me to let you have a go, Heavens forbid and all."

Eyes glinting mischievously, he offered her the thick volume and chucked lowly to himself as she snatched it out of his hands, way more aggressively than she needed to, and retreated back to her bed.


	3. three

On the thirty-eighth day, Draco was not awakened by the sound of incessant scraping in lieu of an alarm clock as he had grown accustomed to.

It was bound to happen, sooner or later, and it was his carelessness and the all-encompassing essence that was _Granger, Granger, Granger_ absolutely _everywhere_ that clouded his judgement and lowered his guard. It wasn't enough that she was already taking up the cell and suffocating him with her scent, her voice, her gasps and tsks as she read. Her everything was all around him. He awoke to her noises, fell asleep lulled by her soft breathing. It wasn't enough for her, because the senses of his that she smothered relentlessly gave way to an internal suffocation too. He couldn't get her out of his head, couldn't claw her out of his skin and couldn't freeze the ever so rapidly growing warmth seeping through his entire body.

That was why his walls had come crumbling down with little hope of reconstructing them. How could he, when all he could breath was the faint scent of sage soap?

Total asphyxiation by Granger.

Had she not been unknowingly pulling him under for weeks now, he would have known better than to not keep watch. He would have known better than to give up and let her swallow him whole because Gods knew that an existence in here with her was better than the one waiting for him upstairs; an existence defiled by snakes and darkness and cruelty. He would've stayed careful.

Anything to prepare him for the morning that woke him with her piercing screams and not her scribbling.

Draco shot up off the floor, instinctively reaching for a wand he no longer had, only to be met with the sight of a thrashing Granger as she was being hauled off her cot by Alecto.

"Get off me!" She was shrieking over and over again, thrashing with all of her strength.

"Shut up, you Mudblood Cunt!" Alecto snarled, backhanding Granger with a smack that made Draco falter from his frozen stance. The latter witch sobbed in protest, an angry red mark sprouting from the contact as blood trickled down her lip.

_Do something. Are you going to sit there and watch? Do something, you coward._

Draco lunged forward, reaching for Alecto's wand arm and pulling with all his might. It granted enough of a distraction for Granger to rip herself from the other witch's grasp, filling him with a fleeting sense of relief.

_Now what?_

Nothing, apparently, because within a split second and a swish of her wand, Draco was brought down to his knees with such force that the breath was knocked out of him. He struggled against the invisible confinement, but the hold on him only seemed to tighten as he frantically struggled, wild eyes never leaving Granger. She seemed frozen too, but for other reasons as she stared at him with troubled eyes.

 _Go_ , he tried to tell her with his. _Take your chance! Do something!_

That moment's hesitation was all Alecto needed, because she managed to roughly grab Granger by her hair and yank her back to her side. Holding her still, Alecto trained her wand on Draco again.

"You disgust me." She spat, eyes gleaming dangerously with a sick scowl on her face. "Blood sympathizer _scum_! You've somehow turned out to be a bigger disgrace than your worthless father! _Crucio_!"

The last thing Draco heard was a scream of protest from Granger's lips before a pain he knew all too well wracked through him with the intensity of a million hot knives. His mouth fell open in a silent scream as his head fell back, the tendons in his neck bulging from the sheer force of the spell.

It felt like his skin was being flayed, piece by excruciating piece off his bones. Like his muscles were stretching and snapping in ways that should be inhumanly impossible, the bones underneath fracturating with the force of the assault. A shrill ringing sounded in his ears, accompanied by the distorted sounds of Granger's screams. It felt like he was drowning. But instead of drowning in water, it was acid bubbling down his throat and filling his lungs with white-hot pain, searing through the tissue and burning him from the inside out.

His vision blurred, then blacked, but he wasn't sure if he was losing sight or if he had simply closed his eyes. It was hard to be sure of anything with the agonizing ministrations of Alecto's wand.

It could've been seconds, or hours for all Draco knew, before suddenly the sharp pain gave way to a persistently dull ache all over his body. His binds released as well, sending him down to the ground in a slump of twitching fingers and gasps for air.

When he found the strength to look up from the floor, Alecto's back was facing him as she towered over Granger.

"Stop," he croaked weakly, unsure of whether he'd even made a sound. But it was no use; Granger was already being hauled out of the room with a loud clang as the iron cell door slammed shut, leaving him by himself.

Down the stone corridor, her echoing screams lingered in symphony with the ringing in his ears.

-

Draco didn't recall ever even losing consciousness, but when his burning eyes blinked open, he shot up to a sitting position abruptly and quickly scanned the room.

Empty.

"Fuck." Draco muttered to himself, ignoring the throbbing ache as he used the metal of the bedframe to help hoist him to his feet. His head spun for a moment, inhaling sharply as closed his eyes and gripped the frame tighter to steady himself.

He inhaled a few times shakily, trying to ignore the trembling of his hands. He tried to hone in on his occlumency, but he couldn't even bring himself to visualize what the cement and bracing looked like. Was it a grid pattern, the formwork? Did he use iron or steel? What shade of grey was the cement?

Absolutely nothing.

"Fuck!" He screamed this time, hands coming up to tug at the roots of his damp hair in frustration.

He sank onto the bed for the first time since he'd gotten himself thrown in here, tears burning his eyes and threatening to spill over. How could he have been so stupid? How had he gotten so... _comfortable_? How had he let this happen?

One thing he knew was that he needed to gather the reins in on himself. Nothing good can come from a meltdown. Not when Granger was up there...he shuddered at the thought.

_Slate grey cement- or was it more of an ashy colour? Poured over squares of two by two formwork. No that doesn't sound right- it's bigger than that. Three by three, yes. In goes the cement, nice and easy..._

With a growl of frustration, Draco jumped to his feet and began pacing the small cell.

It was the melting. Seeping through the steel and pooling at his feet, only hardening when they were covered and cemented to the ground with no wall to hide behind. All his thoughts and emotions on display over the horizon of his mind, clear as day.

What was happening in that drawing room right now? Would Granger get sent back to him in a bloody heap of torn skin and broken bones? Or would she not come back at all? His mind ran through every scenario imaginable like it was his life that was flashing before his eyes.

_Granger on the floor, writhing around in pain at the hands of the psychotic snake. Granger at the mercy of Bellatrix's poisoned dagger, this time without Draco to interfere from it going too far. Granger losing the light in her eyes as what's left of her soul seeps through the cuts, mixing with flowing crimson._

"Fuck!" Draco shouted again, whirling to face the wall adjacent to the bed and rearing his fist back before shattering it against the stone with a resounding _crack_. Only the adrenaline and pure fear coursing through his veins numbed the sharp stings that reverberated up his arm.

He dropped his bloodied fist to his side, eyes zeroing in on the markings in the wall instead. He lifted his uninjured hand, tracing a feather light touch over her inscribings. This particular one looked like Latin.

_Sine sole sileo._

Without the sun I fall silent. A tear broke the surface tension welling in his eyes and slipped down his cheek silently.

_I'm sorry, Granger. I'm sorry I took your sun._

With a wet sniffle, Draco pushed off of the wall and wiped the tear away.

No. She was going to be brought back to him. She would come back, and he would fix her. He would do his best to keep her together until Potter came, even if it cost him his life.

-

It was many hours later when he heard muted footsteps coming down the corridor. Many hours that he spent pacing himself spare, picking at the clotted blood of his knuckles, and doing everything he could to will Granger not to be dead two floors above him. To hope she wasn't.

His heartbeat stuttered for a moment, before thudding at a speed that threatened to rip it out of his chest. He hurried to the door, fingers wrapping around the bars as he craned his neck to see down the corridor.

Two figures. A sudden intake of breath; a glimmer of hope. Two figures, but they weren't out of the woods just yet.

The footsteps grew louder as they approached, prompting Draco to hold his breath.

As they came into view, he saw Alecto, ushering Granger towards the door. He couldn't catch a glimpse of Granger's face for the life of him, but she was standing on two feet.

She was alive.

The rest of the air in his lungs whooshed out in one go as he bit back a choked sob of relief.

"Back, against the wall!" Alecto ordered, the tip of her wand trained between Draco's eyes, a mere few inches away from his face.

He curled his upper lip in a snarl, using the advantage of his height to stare down at her in what he hoped was a threatening way. Sodding use, it had, considering he was locked in here and she was the one free and armed.

"Now, before I give you a repeat of today!" She snapped, and Draco reluctantly released the bars and slinked back into the shadows of the cell until his back met stone. No use in arguing. He just needed to see Granger's face. He needed to make sure she was okay.

The cell door unlocked with a grinding metallic sound that set his teeth on edge.

With an eerie grin that displayed her stained teeth, Alecto shoved Granger in before slamming the door shut again and whirling away.

Draco's breath caught in his throat with sheer horror. Back against the wall, his palms pressed hard against the stone to stop them from shaking violently. He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't form the words.

Granger was alive. Her chest rose and fell, her eyes were open and she was looking at him. Or through him, rather.

What paralyzed Draco was the state of her. Head to toe, covered in blood. It was everywhere. Hair dripping with it from the ends with a small pitter patter, as though it were a leak in the roof after a thunderstorm. Droplets caught on the tips of her lashes, falling down her cheeks like tears every time she blinked. Clothes plastered to her body as though they'd been painted on in crimson.

Her finger twitched, snapping Draco from his gaze. He staggered towards her, one then two steps.

He swallowed. "Granger."

She blinked rapidly, her mouth opening before she shut it promptly. Her red rimmed eyes snapped up to his, and within moments her entire face was crumpling. The tears came, next and Draco was at a loss for what to do.

"Granger." Draco pleaded weakly, extending a cautious hand towards her. "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head frantically, a gut-wrenching sob escaping her lips.

_Sod it all._

He crossed the remaining space between them, placing his hands on her upper arms gently. "Granger, talk to me."

She only cried harder, turning her face to the right, her hair forming a protective curtain around her. Draco's Adam's apple bobbed.

He slid his hands, ever so slowly, up her arms. Fingers trailing the expanse of her shoulder blades, he inhaled deeply. She wasn't recoiling in disgust or fear yet, so Draco took it as a good sign.

His hands slid further until they were gently bracing her throat. He tugged softly, prompting her to face him. "Granger, please."

She finally met his eyes. It was a chilling sight, but he clenched his jaw and tried to coax her with his eyes.

"B-Bill." She choked out, her tears falling so freely that they washed the blood off her face in their path.

Draco released a breath. "Bill?"

"They- they- I couldn't do anything-" Her voice was breaking at every other word. "They made me watch." She finally managed to whisper, going limp against him.

Draco dropped his hands from her neck and wrapped his arms around her instead, holding her in a tight embrace. His heart was racing so hard he was sure she could hear it from her vantage point against his chest. He was hugging Granger. Had there ever been a stranger thing? It definitely felt like the right thing to do, so he pushed the emotions threatening to bubble over the lid down and focused his attention on her.

"I'm sorry." He breathed against her hair as her entire body wracked with sobs. Her fingers tightened around the fabric on his chest. "I'm so sorry."

"They- they did vile things." She gasped. "I couldn't do anything."

"It's not your fault." Draco murmured, running his fingers over her matted hair. "It's not your fault."

"I just _watched_." Tears sprang to his eyes for reasons he couldn't understand as he tightened one arm around her waist and rubbed the other in circles against her back. He hadn't the faintest idea of what he was doing. He'd never been held like this before- never been comforted- and he sure as hell had never done it for anybody else. Not his girlfriends, not even his mother. The way she was almost clawing at his chest in seek of purchase reassured him, so he continued with his support.

Draco tried not to think about the feel of the way her body molded perfectly to his, the way her head tucked under his chin like two pieces of a puzzle. The lump in his throat grew with every shift of her against him in a way that muddled his brain and rendered him speechless, only able to stroke her back softly as she wept.

He had no idea how long he held her while she cried, or when exactly they sank to a heap of limbs on the floor with her on his lap. Eventually, she had sobbed herself hoarse and was rendered to sniffles and a shaky rise and fall of her chest. Draco tried to ignore the metallic smell in his nostrils and the feel of dried blood everywhere, but it was too overwhelming to bear in addition to everything else.

Brushing a tangle of curls out of her eyes and tucking it behind her ear, Draco trailed his pointer finger gently from her forehead to her temple before he dragged it down her cheek and finally rested it below her chin. He watched her as she inhaled sharply at his touch. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he tenderly pushed up her chin so that she was looking at him.

"We should get you cleaned up." He murmured softly.

Granger shook her head shyly, a blush creeping up her neck and cheeks. "I can't do- I-"

"Shh." Draco soothed, trailing his hand back down her neck and pushing her hair off her shoulders. "I'll help you."

She hesitated for a moment, amber eyes looking up at him with a wide, unsure expression. Draco held his breath, watching her intently as something shifted in her expression and she nodded timidly.

He released a puff of breath. She trusted him. She trusted him to help her, no matter how small or insignificant the task was.

_Right, you bastard. This is it. You better not fuck this up._

Shifting them carefully so that she could find her footing, he rose to his feet gently and pulled her up with him. He ran his eyes over once more before sliding his hands down her arms and slipping his hands into hers. She stared up at him intently the whole time with a look he could not place, so he ignored it in favour of leading her to the water basin instead.

This was one of his mother's better judgement calls; a small tub that refilled with clean water magically upon contact with dirt and smelled perpetually of sage.

Granger let go of his hands and began to undo the button of her trousers with trembling fingers. Draco whirled around so fast he feared a rather violent case of whiplash as a furious blush coloured his cheeks. Well that was one thing he didn't account for when he made his suggestion. She was going to be _naked_. In front of him. She was going to let him _bathe_ her while _naked_.

_Yes, you tosser. That's how baths tend to go. Naked._

He cleared his throat awkwardly as he faced the parallel wall.

The rustling of clothes being discarded and the grotesque squelching of bloody fabric being peeled off her body was all he heard for the next minute. He closed his eyes and willed himself to build while he waited.

The water sloshed gently as she stepped in, the sound of it hitting the stone floors snapping him out of his occlumency gaze.

She cleared her throat quietly. "I'm ready."

It was only a whisper, but it made Draco start anyways. Taking a deep breath, he slowly turned back towards the basin.

The basin's edge only covered up to her waist, leaving her whole back that was facing him on display. His heart sank impossibly at the sight of white, raised scars all over her skin. One so big that it ran from the top of her left shoulder diagonally through her back, disappearing under the water. He had to hold back a bitter laugh at the resemblance they bore to the ones on his chest.

She sat impossibly still, almost like she was holding her breath. Draco didn't know how to tell her that he was doing the same thing.

Rolling the black sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, Draco settled on his knees behind her. He reached for the washcloth that was folded over the edge of the tub and submerged it in the water. It was warm, almost too warm, especially as it made contact with the scabbed over cuts on his right knuckles. He ignored it, instead using one hand to gently sweep her hair over one shoulder to fully expose her back to him.

He froze when she flinched at his touch, the water sloshing over the edge once one. Draco immediately retracted his hand, swearing at himself under his breath.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. "I wasn't- you can keep going."

Relief coursed through Draco. Okay, he had yet to fuck this up.

He dipped the washcloth once again in the soapy water before lifting it over Grangers right shoulder and wringing the warm water over her skin. Dipping the cloth in the water again, he repeated his actions with her left shoulder. He watched as the blood slowly washed away from her skin, tainting the water in the basin pink before it magically cleared itself of the offensive liquid and ran clear again.

Draco ran the cloth from one shoulder to the other, before trailing a circular pattern up and down her back. Once her back was clean, he reached for one of her hands that was braced on the other side of the basin. She offered it to him, and he took his time gently running the cloth over the back of her hand. Making sure to clean between each flinger, Draco flipped her hand in his and repeated his actions onto her palm.

When he ran the cloth around her forearm and she automatically lifted her arm up, his pace faltered and the lump in his throat grew further.

_Mudblood._

A sense of debilitating shame worked its way through the grooves of his brain and embedded itself into his core. She didn't say anything about it, it seemed like she was in too muddled of a daze to even realize what she'd revealed to him. If he wanted to finish the task at hand, the last thing he needed was a total meltdown at something Granger had not even noticed. Shaking his head as though to clear it, he used the newly granted access to reach under her upper arms and down the side of her ribs.

The weight of doing something like this was soul crushing. Never in his life did he imagine he'd be running a cloth against Granger's ribcage, his touch the epitome of tenderness. He never imagined the intimacy an act like this could garner. It was enough to make his eyes burn.

Never letting his gaze wander from the washcloth and his sole objective of cleaning her, Draco slipped the cloth over the front of her shoulders and along her collarbones. He clenched his jaw, eyes fluttering shut as he let his clothed hand trail lower, over the swell of one breast and the dip in between before the other. Down further along her stomach and across her hips.

She remained perfectly still. The only evidence that she might've been as conflicted by this as Draco was in the way her breath hitched when he hit a particularly tender spot, or the way her chest rose and fell heavier with every languid stroke of the cloth.

Merlin, he was going to need a lie down after this.

Next, he started on her hair. He set the cloth back on the edge of the basin before wrapping a gentle hand around the side of her throat and urging her to tip her head back. She obliged immediately. With one hand supporting the back of her neck, he dipped her back until her hair was fully submerged in the water. He ran his fingers through her strands and used the suds to loosen the cling of the blood.

He washed her until the water was continuously running clear with no traces of blood.

When he was finally finished, he sat back on his haunches and released a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "All done." He whispered.

Granger's back twisted as she turned to face him, making his throat go dry and his cheeks blush fiercely as began to lower his gaze.

"Wait." She murmured, voice scratchy from all her tears.

With a shaky inhale, Draco looked up at her again. Her arms were folded over the edge of the tub, concealing her below the shoulders as she studied him curiously.

Their faces were a mere few inches away with her turned like this, yet Draco found himself glued to the spot. All he could do was watch as her eyes scanned his entire face, studying him like a potions textbook the night before an exam. When her gaze reached his lips, it stunted for a moment, making his breath hitch. His eyelids drooped to observe as she took a plump lip between her teeth, chewing absentmindedly.

It would be all too easy to let everything melt away and close that gap. Right now, Draco was certain he'd never felt so compelled to do something in his entire life.

He wasn't sure who moved first, but it felt like a freight train barrelling so fast that absolutely nothing could stop it. Their noses brushed first, the only sounds filling the room being their strained breaths and the sloshing of water.

Dizzy with want. Lips parting in anticipation.

Draco stole a glance up at her eyes only to find that she was already watching him. The train was slamming through every wall he'd ever built at impossible speeds, and when he nudged his chin towards her in an attempt to close the gap, her audible gulp only made his head spin even faster.

One loud spatter of water over the edge had the suspense of the moment shattered in an instant.

Granger jumped back as though burned as Draco let himself fall onto his backside.

Both panting, Granger looking anywhere but him and him looking at only her.

Draco cleared his throat, blinking hard as he tried to process what had just happened. Was he just about to kiss her? Kiss Granger? And was she going to _let_ him? There was no way, it had to have been a figment of his imagination. A lapse in judgement. Anything. Anything to fill his thoughts with something other than the heavy dejection he felt, knowing he'd never be able to taste her.

"Do you- _ahem_ , mind?" She squeaked out, eyes downcast with her back turned to him like before.

"Oh, um, no. Sorry" He mumbled, embarrassment filling him and making him pink to the tips of his ears. He quickly scrambled to his feet, turning away from her to give her the privacy she needed to get dressed.

Heart thumping wildly in his chest, he grabbed the first book he could pretend to bury his nose into while he tried to sort out his thoughts.


	4. four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lil bit of spice here but to be fair this was meant to be a one shot so if it feels too soon then oh well! Enjoy the filth ;)

For the first time in near months, Draco didn't feel like he was walking on eggshells around Granger. He didn't feel like the string of coexistence would snap if he crossed the line one more time. Like he was at the edge of the Earth, and one misstep would push him over the precipice and to his demise.

If anything, it was starting to feel less and less than an obligatory coexistence and more of something that swelled his heart with something light and bubbled every time she snapped at him over a book or handed him a leftover piece of chicken from her plate.

"It's up here." He had teased one day, tapping his middle and ring fingers against her temple as she gawked furiously at him. "You don't need to read it again. Besides, we agreed that it was my turn."

"Stop doing that!" She swatted his hand away and glared up at him with arms crossed over her chest. " _Besides_ , no agreements were made. You stating that it's your turn does not equal an agreement. An agreement is a consensus between two or more parties and seeing as one half of the parties evidently does _not_ consent, I-"

Draco threw his head back and cut her off with an open laugh, only furthering her indignation.

She took his let down guard as an invitation to try to snatch it out of his hands, to which he quickly held out of her grip.

He tutted. "Manners, Granger."

"Malfoy! Just give me the sodding book, you prat! You don't even like this one, you've said so yourself."

"Well I changed my mind. Though I am prone to being swayed. You need only ask _nicely_." He shot her a smug expression, watching her expectantly.

"If you expect me to- to _beg_ , then you're out of your mind." She sputtered, cheeks flushed.

Draco's pulse raced. A man could dream, surely. "I didn't say beg, little witch. Though i'm not opposed if that's something you're into."

Merlin, he really needed to learn how to bite his tongue. His proud smirk dipped down on one side slightly as he watched her sputter some more, her cheeks somehow going more red by the second.

She cleared her throat and looked up at him with a feigned expression of geniality. "Malfoy," she began, her voice so sweet it made Draco's teeth ache. "Would you be ever so kind and allow me to read your book?"

Draco's throat went dry, his skin flushing as a warmth overtook him and settled low in the pit of his abdomen.

"Please?" She added, batting her lashes as she looked up at him through them. That infuriating witch even had the nerve to take her bottom lip between her teeth.

 _Sweet Salazar_ , this can't be happening.

He cleared his throat to give him something to do as he tried to think of everything and anything that would help him not make a fool of himself at a few words. A few words from Granger, no less.

Ever so quick and sneaky, she took advantage of his falter and snatched the book out of his lowered hand before he could even blink.

Draco's mouth hung open as he watched her face break out into a smug grin that could've rivaled his best as she waved the book in front of him for a moment before taking it back to her spot on the bed.

He wanted to be annoyed at being bested, he really did. But with that smile on her face, Granger could do plenty more than best him and he'd have no choice but to comply.

Yes, he was beginning to hate his time here less indeed.

That didn't mean he didn't remain wary. Because despite what was going on in their little bubble in here, who knew what could possibly be happening on the outside? That someone wasn't threatening to burst it with something sharp and ugly and ruin everything they had built up?

Most days his brain raced with the countless possibilities, while his nights were spent stifling yawns and fighting his drooping eyelids with eyes trained on Granger's back as she slept. After last time, he'd never forgive himself if he let her slip out from within his grasp. Especially not with him snoring away like a useless bellend not two feet away.

No, he wouldn't be making that mistake again.

With a limited collection of books that only got replaced every other week or so, Draco was often left to his devices. They didn't exactly spend their hours chatting up a storm; their interactions were almost always based in conflict. Arguing over this, spatting over that.

Just last night Draco had taken a book to the head when he had offhandedly and very innocently compared the porcupine on the cover of a children's book to Granger. He never drew any specific comparisons, just that it reminded him of her, so really it was her own fault that she assumed that her hair was the common ground.

Still, Draco had chuckled lowly as he tossed the book back to her and even noticed a small smile playing at her lips that she attempted to hide behind the pages.

The markings on the wall grew with each day, some spent entirely with her furiously etching various symbols and words into the stone. It had become her own personal mural, one that Draco found himself unable to hate no matter how hard he tried. Sometimes she'd a hum a soft tune while scratching, going even as far as talking him through the latest rune or proverb. He loved those days the most, because he could lean against the wall with his head tilted back and just listen to the soothing melody that was her voice. It almost felt like everything was okay.

But everything wasn't okay. Some days Granger wouldn't shift an inch from her cot; not to eat, not even to read. Draco would have the same internal struggle every time of whether he should leave her be or try to help. Insinuating that he was capable of helping her to begin with was a laughable notion, but when he noticed her shoulders shaking every so slightly or a sniffle sounding, he couldn't exactly help himself. She would ignore him entirely of course, leaving Draco to pace as quietly as he could, teeth nipping at the skin surrounding his nails.

He couldn't blame her anyway. Bottom line was that, no matter what kind of rapport they'd built over the last months, she was still a prisoner. His prisoner, if you take technicalities into consideration and ignore the bit where he managed to get himself locked up too. She was here, wasting away in a cell with her childhood nemesis while everyone she cared about were up to Merlin knows what out there.

Draco often pondered the ongoing war that raged around them. At the time of his imprisonment, Voldemort and his army were only increasing in rank. They had captured the entirety of England, and were slowly extending south. The last news he'd heard was of a coup d'état in Germany following a successful takeover of Netherland's ports and its neighbouring coasts. With his father out serving as second in command to Corban Yaxley, the most humiliating position that Voldemort could order, he wasn't around to witness Draco's treason. They were down in Italy, tearing through the elected Ministry officials thanks to the bureaucratic shite of an excuse for a government. By now, the Italian minister was probably imperiused within an inch of his life, happily signing away the freedom of his nation. Soon enough, they would have all of Europe under their control- then what?

Then nothing, if only Potter and his army could pull through. The last known base of the Order was in the outskirts of Scotland, but one could assume they had since evacuated after Voldemort's takeover of Hogwarts and consequently, Hogsmeade. All he could hope for was that wherever they were, he genuinely hoped Granger was right. They needed to come quick.

Presently, he snuck glances at Granger as she lay horizontally on the bed, legs splayed up against the wall and her head hanging off the edge of the bed. She let the book she was holding in her hands drop to her chest with an impatient huff.

Draco looked up from his push-up position, quirking an eyebrow in her direction.

She didn't say anything, but dramatically sighed as she pointedly looked at him.

Rolling his eyes, Draco bit the bone she offered and pushed himself off the ground. "What is it?"

"My eyes are hurting." She stated matter-of-factly.

Draco cocked his head to the side as he reached for the small towel by the sink, ruffling it against the nape of his neck. "What the fuck does that have to do with me?"

Her eyes narrowed at him before rolling over to her stomach, placing her chin in her hands with her elbows propped up. "You don't have to be so crude! I only mean that my eyes hurt too much to finish reading."

He stared at her. "I still fail to see how that's a concern of mine."

She rolled her eyes again, before shooting him a deadpan look. "Will you read to me?"

_You're hearing things. Granger most definitely did not ask you to read for her, of all things. Absolutely not._

Draco blinked. "You want me to...read to you?"

"That's what I just said, isn't it?" She raised a brow at him, scooting down the side of the bed and staring pointedly at the empty space.

Was she inviting him to sit? Was this really happening? Was that the sound of his blood rushing past his ears, or had he suddenly gone deaf?

Adam's apple bobbing, Draco set the towel down on the edge of the basin and slowly approached the bed. He didn't miss the way her eyes lit up triumphantly, though he tried to ignore the way his stomach swooped at her excitement.

He gingerly settled onto the bed, spreading his legs out in front of him with his back to the wall. He made sure to leave a good foot of space between them, lest he scare her away before he even got a chance to fulfill a fantasy he never knew he had.

Granger held the book out to him, nodding eagerly as he took it from her. A small smile played on her lips as she, too, settled against the wall and closed her eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Draco flipped to the page she had marked with one of her white strings and began reading. He tried to not outwardly show that he was currently losing his absolute shite on the inside, and instead tried to focus on her satisfied hums and occasional giggles as he made his way through the humorous plot.

Not long into the second chapter, he glanced up when he started to notice a lack of sounds coming from her only to see Granger starting to nod off. Too nervous to break the spell that had lulled her to sleep, he continued reading. Soon, she had completely drifted off, body slowly drooping against his with every line he managed to choke out.

Draco's pulse raced, muscles tensing in an attempt to not disturb her from where she was completely leaned against him. Merlin, her head was on his shoulder and everything. He chanced a glance in her direction, but scrunched his face up when a few frizzy curls tickled his nose.

Huffing at her hair to push it out of the way, he set the book down on his lap and attempted to adjust so that she would be more comfortable. Appeased, Granger tucked her chin further into his shoulder, breaths coming out in slow, even counts.

With nothing around but the sound of her soft breathing and the most comfortable seat he'd had in months, Draco found himself comfortably succumbing to sleep as well.

-

The first thing Draco noticed when he began stir was the softness of the ground beneath him. When had they installed the floors with a cushioning charm? Whoever did it was going to get a fat bag of gold as soon as he got out of here.

The second thing he noticed was the warmness pressing into his right side.

Blinking his eyes open sleepily, he glanced down to find Granger completely curled into him half way between his side and his lap. He had an arm looped around her back, resting against her hip while his other hand lay flat on the mattress to his left. He noted the way her cheek was pressed into the space where his hip connected to his leg, embarrassingly close to other areas, and the way her chest rose and fell with soft snores.

Draco's face broke out in a brilliant shade of red as he realized they'd fallen asleep together. On the bed. With her in his lap.

_In your dreams, idiot. Literally._

There's nothing to say he couldn't just sit here and slowly continue to stroke her hip as she slept on his lap. If anything, moving now would wake her up and that would just be plain rude. He could allow himself to relish in her faint flowery scent, and in the way her fingers twitched slightly against the fabric of his trousers where her hands curled against his thigh.

So he did. He stroked her hip and watched her face intently all the while trying to convince himself that this was _not_ creepy, thank you very much. He was just observing. Innocently, of course.

Focusing on the animated flutter of her eyelids and the way her eyes moved rapidly beneath them, he trailed his fingers up and down her arm. He wondered what she was dreaming about.

Suddenly, her face crumpled into a pained expression and her even breathing began to stagger. Draco's eyebrows furrowed in concern as she began to twitch more prominently. He subconsciously tightened his hold on her.

"No." she whispered, burying her face further into the crook of his hip. "Please, no."

Draco watched helplessly, unsure of whether waking her up would be the smart thing to do. He'd had his fair share of nightmares, ones that even gave way to night terrors where he would find himself knee deep in one of the garden's many ponds. That didn't mean he knew how to handle somebody who was having them.

Then she began to thrash. Small jerks at first, to which Draco responded by securing the grip he had on her and using his other hand to stroke her hair. "Shh." He tried to soothe.

"No!" A scream, and now she was properly convulsing in his hold.

"Granger!" He shouted, trying to shake her out of her stupor. "Granger, it's just a dream!"

"Please! No more!" She sobbed, now clawing at his chest. Draco's heart was lodged in his throat with panic as he tried to grab her by the upper arms and hoist her to a seating position where she was facing him.

"Granger, look at me! It's only a dream!"

Slowly, her tremors melted away and her eyes blinked open, filled with tears that were already overflowing. "M-Malfoy?" She whimpered.

He nodded reassuringly, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. "You're okay. You're alright."

She nodded weakly, glassy eyes searching his. For what, he would never know. All he knew was that he needed to fix this, to stop her from crying- anything.

"You're alright." He murmured again.

Nodding again, she let her head fall forward until her forehead was pressed to his chest. Draco drew a few deep breaths, desperately trying to regulate the way his heart was beating so that he didn't beat out right against her head. He let his eyes flutter shut as he wrapped his arms around her, cheek pressed to the top of her head.

They were embracing. Again. It was all Draco could do to not pass out right then and there.

"I'm sorry." She croaked between sniffles.

"It's okay. Don't be sorry, you're okay now." He attempted to reassure, now tracing firm circles against her lower back as her breathing stabilized once more.

She lifted her head from his chest and looked up at him through her dark, wet lashes.

Draco's breath hitched at their proximity, eyes darting back and forth between hers.

_Come on, Granger. Pull. Give me something here._

He was pleading with his eyes, he knew, but he couldn't bring himself to care any longer. His feet had been cemented to the ground long enough with nothing in front of him - _no, around him_ \- but Granger. It was suffocating. He needed a breath.

Just one lungful, just one taste.

Short puffs of air met his lips from hers, causing him to involuntarily wet his lips. Her eyes fell towards the action immediately.

His lips parted in anticipation. "Hermione." His voice cracked, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

The air he'd been craving for so long rushed into his lungs at the same time Hermione tilted her chin to close the rest of the gap.

Her lips were timid and soft against his, unmoving. Testing the waters.

Draco inhaled deeply through his nose, his senses flooded with everything that was her. Her warmth was melting his ice yet he couldn't bring himself to protest.

Instead, he reached up to gently cup her jaw, his other had still pressed against her lower back. He tilted his chin to the side, deepening the pressure of their chaste kiss.

Then, her lips began to move against his. Slowly at first, like she was trying to determine what felt right. Then, more sure with her movements, opening and closing unhurriedly as she reached up to tangle her fingers through his hair.

He let her take the reins. He didn't think he could trust himself to not lose control.

Groaning softly against her mouth when she tugged, Hermione broke the kiss with a gasp, as though the sound had snapped her out of a daze.

He panted harshly, forehead pressed against hers as he watched the resolve slowly crumble from behind her eyes. Like she was trying to fight it. Evidently, though, it was as much a futile effort as Draco's fight had been.

Once again, her lips met his again. This time more fervently, pushing and pulling against his in a way that made his knees weak and his heart thud. She climbed onto his lap, one knee bracing either side of his hips as her arms circled around his neck. His arms wrapped around her waist securely in return, tilting his head back as she kissed him dizzy.

She tasted of mild toothpaste and sage and something that he could only describe as _her_. Something that he hadn't realized he was starving for.

He swiped his tongue along her lower lip, using the gasp she emitted as a chance to slide his tongue against hers. They both moaned softly at the new intrusion, Draco running his hand up her spine and burying in the hair at the nape of her neck. He kissed her like she was the answer to all his problems and she kissed back like she was trying to prove it.

Once again, she broke the kiss first, but Draco was nowhere near finished. He tugged gently at her hair, exposing her neck to him. He trailed a line of kisses down her jaw, then back up until his tongue swept the space below her ear. He sucked softly on the tender skin, smiling against her neck at the gasp that left her lips.

Hermione tugged harder at the hair in her grasp, rolling her hips down against his as his tongue laved all over the lovebites he was leaving down the column of her throat. Above him, she was gasping and squirming, head thrown back.

Heat pooled at the pit of Draco's stomach with every shift against his lap. Gods, he was harder than he'd ever been before, he was sure of it, and now Hermione knew it too. It seemed that she relished in it, because the soft groan that left his lips at one particularly sharp sweep of her hips encouraged her to grind down even harder.

"Malfoy," She panted, looking down at him through lidded eyes. He pulled back from his assault against her throat to watch the way she licked her lips, face flush and eyes wanting.

"Yeah?" He breathed, one hand still curled into her hair and the other now running up and down her thigh.

"Touch me." She pleaded.

Draco's hand faltered, stopping right over the swell of her rear. _Sweet fucking Salazar_ , did he hear that right?

"Please." She added quietly, rolling her hips down once more for good measure. He groaned loudly at the friction, trousers now uncomfortably tight against his swollen cock.

He removed his hand from her hair and slid it down her back and past her rear, resting it behind the crook of where her knee was bent. His other hand following suit, he pressed his lips against hers in a bruising kiss as he used the leverage of his hands to flip them over, leaving Hermione on her back with him nestled between her legs.

He never wanted to leave.

"Is this okay?" He asked breathlessly, one hand propped up by her head while the other ran up and down her side.

She bit her lip and nodded eagerly, her own hands splayed on either side of her head. With her lips kissed swollen and her cheeks blushing the way that they did, Draco couldn't help himself.

"You're so beautiful." he murmured, bringing hand up to brush a curl out of her face. He traced his fingers down her temple, a featherlight touch, and settled them under her jaw as he gazed at her longingly. If only he could have her the way he wanted.

Hermione offered him a bashful smile, letting her fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

He crushed their lips together in an agonizingly desperate display of need. His tongue traced the inseam of her lip, making her part hers and let their tongues roll around fervently. He wasn't sure who was pulling or who was pushing, but his head was spinning.

With the hand that he wasn't using to hold himself up, Draco experimentally slipped his fingers under the hem of her shirt, tracing her hip bone. When she leaned into his touch, he allowed his fingers to stray further until they grazed the underside of her left breast.

He inhaled sharply, pulling back to look at her. She wasn't wearing a bra.

Ever so bold, Hermione arched her back into his touch, further pushing her chest against his hand.

Up for the challenge, Draco let his fingers wander up until they brushed her already tightened nipple, smirking as they pebbled further under his touch. He basked in her soft mewls as he tweaked one between his forefinger and thumb.

He pulled back slightly only to tug at the hem of her shirt, which she promptly peeled off her body at the hint.

Draco sat back on his haunches, breathless at the sight of her. All sprawled out, all beautiful, just for him. Olive skin flushed, chest heaving and lips swollen. All for him. Because of him.

Kissing a sloppy line down the column of her throat, he groaned at the sharp tug of his hair when he flicked his tongue experimentally against one nipple. She moaned loudly, her back arching into his touch, hips pushing against his.

He brought one hand to hold her hips against the bed to stop her from squirming against him, because Circe knows how desperate he was to not embarrass himself this soon and come right in his trousers. She was overwhelming his senses, and he needed to focus on her. This was about her.

He trailed his lips down the dip between her mounds and captured her other nipple in his mouth, gently grazing his teeth against it.

She gasped, tugging at his roots. "Oh god."

Draco hummed against her skin, releasing her nipple before kissing back up her chest and finally pulling back to look at her.

"Open that pretty little mouth for me." He breathed.

She obliged obediently, offering him her glistening pink tongue. Draco groaned softly as he pressed the pads of his fore and middle fingers to the wetness. 

She hummed as she closed her lips around his fingers, swirling her tongue and coating them, her eyes never leaving his.

"Fuck." He whispered, swallowing the lump in his throat. His other hand gently grazed her neck, his thumb sweeping up and down the side of her throat.

She ground her hips up against his, eliciting a surprised gasp from him before he smirked down breathlessly at her. "Easy, love." He gave a low laugh. "I'll take care of you, I promise."

He watched in awe as she pulled her mouth away from his fingers, leaving a trail of spit from her wet lips. With a lick of his lips, he dipped his chin down to capture hers in a slow kiss, one that she broke with an impatient huff.

"Malfoy." Hermione whined, and Draco thought briefly how the only way he ever wanted to hear his name again was dragged out through her pretty lips. She had an official claim over it now.

Conceding with her demands, Draco trailed wet fingers down her neck, over her tightened nipples then down her navel. He glanced up at her, and she nodded.

He undid the button and zipper of her trousers swiftly before slipping his hand down past the curls between her legs. They both inhaled sharply as his fingers easily glided through her folds.

She was soaked.

Draco's own discomfort grew as he hardened further, something he thought was impossible at this point.

He glanced up to watch her face, a shy expression plastered on it as she worried her lower lip. Gaze trained intently on her, he watched her face contort and mouth fall open as he experimentally brushed his fingers against the cluster of nerves at the apex of her legs. An appeased breath escaped his lips at the sound of her crying out sharply, hips jerking into his touch.

She was panting now, fists gripping the sheets at either side of her neck with her head thrown to the side. Draco used his preoccupied hand to gently direct her gaze to him again through a grip on her jaw.

He slid his fingers against her clit again, working in a circular and gentle pattern. He watched in wonder as her moans grew louder, more wanton with every brush of his fingers.

Her hips started to grind up against his hand as he picked up his pace, fingers sliding easily against her.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me." Draco groaned, eyes never leaving hers even as they closed from the sheer amount of pleasure she was getting.

She whimpered in response, grinding her hips up more fervently. "M-more. Please"

Happy to oblige, Draco let his middle finger trail lower where he slipped it in, her arousal helping it glide through her tight opening with ease. Slowly, he began curling it against her, searching for the spot that would make her see stars.

The sounds she was making sent all his blood rushing south, rendering him useless in anything but his current ministrations.

He pulled his middle finger out, only to slip it back in with his forefinger in tow. He curled his fingers again as he pumped them in and out of her, and this time he knew he hit the spot judging by her loud cry and the way her hips jolted.

"Yeah? Right there?" He prompted, dropping his face to her neck where he sloppily kissed and licked and nipped her skin all over.

"Yes, yes, yes." She chanted, now shamelessly grinding up against his hand. "Please." She all but sobbed.

He continued to curl his fingers in and out of her, savoring the way she was writhing and simpering underneath him. When he felt her muscles clench around his fingers, he groaned and swiped his thumb against her clit.

She cried out, hands flying to tangle roughly in his hair.

"Are you gonna come for me like this? Be a sweet girl and come all over my hand?" He breathed against her ear, nipping her earlobe.

Nodding frantically against his head, Hermione tugged at his hair to pull him back to eye level. There were tears welling in her eyes, and her breaths were coming in staccato puffs.

Her hips were wildly rutting down now, and he knew she was close. He didn't dare change anything about his attention, knowing that even a small shift in pressure could ruin the tension that he'd been working so diligently to build.

Fingers pumping furiously inside her, he brought his other hand to smooth the hair that was starting to stick to her temples.

"I'm close." She choked out, face screwed up in her stimulation.

"Yeah?" He coaxed, letting his hand settle loosely at the base of her throat. "Come on. I want to feel you. You can do it, Hermione."

"I wanna- please." She whined, rutting against him.

With two more curls of his fingers inside her and swirl against her clit, she was shattering underneath him.

He watched in awe as she threw her head back with a broken cry, hips stuttering in their pace against his hands.

"That's it. That's a sweet girl. You're so beautiful like this." He murmured, hands slowing down to work her through the cool down of her high.

When the aftershocks of her orgasm subsided, he carefully slipped his fingers from her and withdrew his hand from her knickers.

She winced at the emptiness, before looking up at him with wide eyes as he panted above her. Almost timidly, she reached towards his waistband.

Heart racing, he snatched her wrist before she could make contact.

She looked up at him, an almost offended expression on her face. "You don't want me to...?"

Of course he wanted to. Was this witch out of her mind? He wanted nothing more than to tear each other's clothes off and sink into her over and over again until she could do nothing sob with pleasure.

As it is, that wasn't his intention for today. Or at all, if she was happy stopping whatever this was here. He had just wanted to make her feel good. He wanted to take away the pain and give her something to smoulder in, to thank her for letting him.

He shook his head, bringing the wrist in his hand up and kissing her palm softly. "No, that's not it. You should get some rest."

She gaped at him in disbelief for a moment, and Draco tried to swallow the hurt that rose in him at the notion that she thought this was something transactional. Like it about a mutual agreement, rather than the fact that all he wanted was to worship her body and listen to her moans.

He pulled back and sat up, looking away as she scrambled for her shirt.

Hermione's hand shot out to grab his when he made a move to get off the bed. He turned to look at her inquisitively, quirking an eyebrow.

Draco watched in real time as a thousand emotions and thoughts flashed through her eyes before she bit down on her lip and looked up at him hopefully. "You could stay?" She squeaked. "Only if you want, of course." She added in a rush.

 _Only if you want?_ Draco struggled to think of something he wanted more than this. How could anything ever compare to a promise of her body pressed against his to help drift him off to sleep.

Adam's apple bobbing, he gave her a curt nod before sliding back in, this time under the covers that she lifted up for him. He lay flat on his back, hands folded against his chest with uncertainty coursing through him. He held his breath as he felt her nudge closer to him. He didn't dare move a muscle.

Slowly, a timid touch of her fingers against his bicep before trailing down his arm had the tension melting away like vapour in the sun. She wrapped her hand around his and tugged gently, prompting him to lift his arm and make room for her to slot perfectly against his side.

When her face was tucked securely against his chest, she let go of his hand and let her arm lay over his middle instead.

Eyelids feeling heavier by the second, Draco wrapped his arm around her shoulders and tucked her against him before he let himself lose the battle against sleep.


	5. five

" _Omnia vincit amor."_ Hermione declared from where she was standing against the far wall, stepping back to admire her work.

The one by her _-their-_ bed was too full of inscriptions to fit much of anything else.

Draco and Hermione's new dynamic was something that bewildered him greatly still, despite the last few weeks of growing more accustomed and comfortable around each other. He quickly discovered that he burned for her in a way that licked flames all over his skin without ever ebbing off to embers. It was powerful and all-consuming, the need to be with her. Be around her, to feel her skin or even better, her lips against his.

Feeling her in other, more intimate ways was no small feat either. There were only a few repeats of their first kiss and what subsequently followed, but all occurred under the comfort of the sheets without even the soft glow of the oil lamp. In the dark. In secret. Secrets that were never discussed the next morning. Draco felt much too attached to their secrets to betray them with feelings of dejection at their lack of communication. He would take what he could get, and then some, because anything she gave him was more than he could deserve in a thousand lifetimes.

But just as quick and hot as he burned for her, she burnt out just as fast. Some days her fire reared its ugly head with such intensity that he had no choice but to occlude until she was nothing but a vague brunette with an irritating voice. The last time he'd aggressively handled her had sent him into a depressive spiral for weeks, and her towards a nasty case of the cold shoulder. Better to box himself in with concrete than to risk hurting her, even with words. Even if she had tried to strike first.

"I don't know that one. Strange." Draco mused from his spot on the bed, watching her scribble away. Today was one of their more mellow days. Things had been very quiet from the outside, aside from a few hazings at the hands of Amycus, there hadn't been much to handle or do recently.

Hermione snorted, shooting him an contemplative look. As though she knew something he didn't. His annoyance grew visibly. "Figures." She muttered to herself.

He grimaced at her, crossing his arms over his chest. "What?" He snapped.

She shook her head with a sad smile on her face. "Love conquers all."

"What a load of fucking rubbish." Draco rolled his eyes. If love conquered anything, they wouldn't be in this predicament. He'd already be in Azkaban, or better yet dead, while Hermione was back with her trio and well on the path of becoming ginger-headed baby making machine.

She shrugged, setting the chipped rock aside and joining him on the bed. "I don't think it is."

Draco bit his tongue from expressing his true feelings before he wound up hurting hers. No sense ruining a good day over some Latin nonsense, especially when that nonsense would mean zilch in a short time. They'd either be dead, or alive under an improbable defeat against Voldemort that would no doubt pin them on opposite sides once again.

As he opened his mouth to change the subject, a gruff set of voices rang out from the end of the corridor.

Hermione's eyes met Draco's at the same time as they widened in horror. Draco lunged forward to meet her halfway on the bed, both on their knees as they pressed against one another.

He grabbed her by the face, holding her firmly with one hand as he brushed her hair behind her ear with the other. Her eyes were already welling with tears, her lower lip wobbling.

"Look at me." Draco breathed, eyes boring into hers. "You're going to be okay. I won't let them touch you. I promise."

Hermione shook her head furiously, a few tears escaping. "I can't anymore, Malfoy. I can't do it. I won't watch again, I can't!" She sobbed.

Draco shushed her as he brought her face to his chest in an embrace. The footsteps were growing louder as they neared. A ringing in his ear set his teeth on edge, a panic blooming through his chest that he didn't know how to control.

Grabbing her face and pressing their foreheads together, he captured her lips in a crushing kiss, trying to pour every emotion and semblance of reassurance that he could into her. He brushed her tears away with the pads of his thumbs.

_I've got you._

They pulled apart and jumped to their feet just in time to hear the metal grinding of the bars signal the door opening.

Draco instinctively held his arm up against Hermione, effectively shielding her with his body as Greyback stalked into the room. His lips were curled in a snarl, baring his sharp canines as he prowled towards their huddled forms like a predator stalking its prey.

Even with his above average height, Draco still dwarfed in comparison to the werewolf's imposing frame.

"You're coming with me." He growled, staring down directly at Draco.

Relief flooded him at the same time his blood ran cold through his veins. Greyback wasn't here for Hermione. They weren't going to hurt her; they only wanted him. Easier than he's ever been able to in his whole life, the walls erected themselves around him without a second to spare. A resolve that set even his bones in concrete. For Hermione, he could do this. He could bear the weight of the pain she's been carrying around. Anything to keep her safe.

Hermione made a sound of protest as she tried to twist around Draco, grunting in surprise as he pushed her back firmly.

Greyback's gleaming eyes snapped over Draco's shoulder where she stood, fingers clutching his upper sleeve like her life depended on it. "Not today, pretty. Such a shame."

The werewolf walked further until he was directly in front of them. Draco tracked his every move, keeping a steadfast hold on the brunette behind him. Greyback extended a furry arm, nails long and sharp as they reached for Hermione's chin. She gasped at the offence, eyes darting to Draco as he inhaled sharply.

He didn't want to act prematurely, lest he somehow fucked it up and got Hermione in on whatever was planned for him upstairs, too.

Greyback tutted as he withdrew his hand. Draco released his breath. "But i'll get you and your sweet cunt to myself one day." He shot her a nasty grin before grabbing the blonde by the collar instead and ripping him away from her, towards the door. An anger Draco had never known thrummed in his veins and blurred the edge of his vision with red. He would make it out of here, he vowed it. If only to watch the way the life drains out of the werewolf's eyes at his hands.

Draco nodded reassuringly at her as she stood there, a pained expression on her face. He could see the way her brain worked through her eyes, and tried to communicate through his own that he would be okay. That this would all be okay. 

Tears flowed down her cheeks freely as she rushed up to the cell door right as it closed, nothing but wrought iron separating the two of them now.

"It's okay." Draco assured, voice stronger than he felt on the inside. For her, he could be strong. He could do it, if only once.

Then he was being dragged down the stone corridor and out of the dungeons for the first time in months.

The first thing he noticed when they made it to the top of the stairs and into the wide drawing room was the air. It was thin, almost, in a way that made him gasp sharply and choke on his own spit. Months of being down in a damp cellar had him grown accustomed to the excessive humidity; the luxury of the clean air up here sliced through his throat and into his lungs with every breath.

Then it was the light. He squinted and hissed as he turned his head from the flashing chandelier, one that he never recalled being quite so bright. He supposed that anything in comparison to the soft hue of the oil lamp would do well to blind him, especially when thrust so suddenly into the spotlight. He closed his eyes as Greyback led him further into the room.

When his eyes had finally adjusted to the assault, Draco was being thrust forward and onto his knees before being swiftly hit with a binding spell.

_Well, here goes nothing. What's it going to be today? A lovely bout of Crucio, or perhaps one-on-one session with some of Bellatrix's favourite toys?_

As it turned out, Draco looked up to find that none of his guesses had been correct. Far from, actually.

Instead, he was met with an upturned and disgusted expression that he knew all too well. One that was reserved for only him, one that made his stomach drop dangerously and his throat go dry.

His father stared down at him down the line of his nose, one hand braced on the snake's head on the top of his walking stick, the other draped over it. He held his shoulders back in that same aristocratic posture that had been ingrained into Draco since he was but a boy, and suddenly he felt like he was back in first year. Head down, voice squeaky and _so_ afraid as he tried to explain to his seething father why Potter had made the quidditch team in his first year but he hadn't.

As much as Draco tried to repress the hitch of his breath at the sight of Lucius, his walls shook too hard to be able to steady much of anything, let alone his breath.

Past Lucius' left shoulder stood Narcissa, with a stoic look on her face that might have been more convincing if her eyes weren't as rimmed red as they were. He tried desperately to catch her eye, to let her know he wasn't angry with her. Not anymore. Not when she had risked her life the way she did not only for him, but for Hermione too.

Turning his head to look back at his father, his sneer of disgust had given way to something else that he couldn't place.

When their stare-down had amassed a tension so thick that a slice of a knife would shatter it, Lucius spoke.

"You are fortunate the Dark Lord was out of the country at the time of your disgrace." He drawled, now slowly stalking a circle around Draco's kneeling form. The younger Malfoy didn't let his gaze follow, instead choosing to set his jaw and stare straight forward. Straight past his mother and towards the door.

Lucius reclaimed his spot in front of him, and rapped the cane against the floor in three successive, harsh taps. "You should also find yourself incredibly lucky to have a mother that would go to the lengths she had to make sure you didn't rot. Lucky indeed, seeing as if that were me, I would've had your head myself."

Draco swallowed the lump growing in his throat, but said nothing as he kept his gaze trained forward.

"When I speak to you, you shall look at me!" Lucius bellowed as he sent a backhand flying towards Draco with a force that knocked him off kilter. The latter gasped as his chest heaved, blinked back tears of surprise as the strength of the hit.

"Lucius." Came Narcissa's soft voice, her tone laced with warning.

Lucius held a hand up, briefly glancing over his shoulder at his wife. "Enough, Narcissa. You have coddled this boy far too long."

Draco swallowed thickly as he slowly lifted his gaze to meet Lucius'. His father's eyes burned with rage, and his left eyebrow twitched in the telltale sign Draco had long ago learned could mean no good.

"They have left you and your Mudblood whore alive for a reason I do not wish to understand." Lucius began with a grimace, tapping his stick against the ebony stained bocote floorboards. 

_Tap tap tap._

It was setting his teeth on edge, further deepening the red hue that clouded his vision.

"I would like to believe that I did a better job in raising you to uphold the Malfoy name, yet here you are dragging it deeper through the _mud_ at every turn." He tutted.

_Tap tap tap._

Lucius released a deep sigh. "Yet here you are, failing me once again."

_Tap tap tap._

"I suppose I shouldn't have been foolish enough to strive for excellence with the likes of you, but I never thought you would stoop low enough to become besotted with a filthy little Mud-"

_Tap tap tap._

"Enough!" Draco exploded, vision now completely shaded in scarlet. Lucius didn't even flinch at the bellow of his voice echoing around the vast room. Instead, he just cemented his cane to the ground and lifted an eyebrow.

Chest heaving, Draco continued. "I don't give a _fuck_ what you think!"

"Draco, dear-" Narcissa attempted to interject, but he cut her off as well.

"No! I've had it. I'm done trying to live up to expectations not even _you_ could." Draco spat, directing his words at the man towering above him.

Lucius' eyes flashed dangerously, but he remained impossibly still.

At this point the words were tumbling out of his mouth in an incessant stream that showed no point in stopping. "You can say what you'd like about me, but it doesn't change the fact that you're a _coward_ that failed at protecting his family from all this fucked up shit!"

His insult must've snapped the remaining thread of his father's patience because the next second, his wand was drawn and a curse was rolling off the tip of his tongue.

Suddenly a loud crack sounded in the room, and a house elf that looked worse for wear, one that Draco did not recall the name of, had appeared out of thin air.

Lucius whirled swiftly, wand trained at the boney creature. It let out a squeak and dropped to its knees.

"Master Malfoy!" The elf cried, head bowed impossibly low. "Pilsy does not mean to anger master! Pilsy is only telling master that young mister Nott is here! Pilsy asked young Nott to wait at the floo but he is not listening!"

"Shut it!" Lucius snapped, striking her aside with a flick of his wand.

The tudor-style double doors at the opposite end of the room burst open, revealing a lanky man with a mop of brown girls and a face too kind for the weight it was bearing.

Draco gawked openly, blinking several times. His eyes must've been playing games on him, because this man scarcely resembled the Theo that was his best friend, damaged but coy and charming. The one he had rushed to with news of Hermione's capture and helped him forget with a bottle of Firewhiskey.

No, this new Theo stormed right towards Lucius, not even sparing a glance in Draco's direction.

"Lucius, there's been an update. We do not have the liberty to wait until the next full moon anymore, the transfer is scheduled for tonight." Theo hurried, voice controlled and firm.

_Lucius? Transfer?_

Draco was at a loss. Not only did he have no clue what they were talking about it, his brain muddled uselessly as he tried to think of a reason why Theo would know about anything getting transferred, let alone something important enough to discuss with his father. At the time of his capture, Theo wasn't even a marked Death Eater. His only status came from the fact that he was the son of one of the most notoriously ruthless Death Eaters within their rank. Theo was the kind of person that avoided talking down to a bloody house elf, if he could. So to see him what seemed to be a position of power in only two months bewildered Draco to no extent.

Straining his ears, Draco tried to hang on to their hushed whispers to the best of his ability. He heard murmurs of Nagini and something that sounded like a hawk cross, whatever that meant. He was still as confused as ever.

With a curt nod, Theo was off again, this time meeting Draco's eyes in a fleeting side glance that revealed absolutely nothing.

Lucius' eyes snapped to where Draco was still kneeling, an obvious look of confusion no doubt colouring his face. He watched the cogs turn in his brain before whirling towards the door and taking off, robes billowing behind him.

"Fenrir!" The elder Malfoy snapped, pointing a finger in his son's direction, almost past the threshold already.

As Greyback began making his way over to them again, Draco stole one last look at his mother, watching as her eyes brimmed with tears. She gave him an apologetic look, but he only managed a shake of his head before claws were wrapping around his collar and dragging him away.

-

Draco fell to the stone floor on his hands and knees with a grunt, glaring up at Greyback's retreating form.

Before he could gather his bearings, a barreling weight knocked him off balance and onto his back. Hermione collapsed on top of him with a small 'oof' sound.

"You're okay." She choked out, breathless, as she wrapped her arms around his neck impossibly tight.

A warmth slowly spread through his entire body, melting the rigid ice that had formed during his interaction with his father, and lighting every last nerve of his on fire. Breathing in the familiar scent of her hair, he snaked his arms around her waist and returned her embrace.

"I'm okay." He murmured into her ear.

But it was over too fast, and she was abruptly pulling back with an abashed look to match her pink cheeks. She cleared her throat as she sat back on her haunches and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. With a sigh, Draco sat up as well, drawing his knees up and resting his elbows on them with his hands clasped and hanging between his legs.

"What happened? They didn't hurt you, did they?" Hermione asked, eyes rapidly raking over his entire form as though trying to pinpoint any injuries.

Draco's right cheek throbbed slightly as he shook his head. "No, it wasn't like that."

Hermione cocked her head to the side in confusion.

Inhaling slowly, he ran a hand through his blonde waves. "It was my father."

Her look of confusion slowly melted into a knowing one before it settled on something akin to pity.

Draco looked away, the warmth that filled him at her touch starting to twist into something ugly. He didn't need pity from anybody, especially not her. He didn't need the subject of his family's psychotic terrorizing to feel _sorry_ for him, of all things. Especially not for somebody who didn't deserve forgiveness.

"What happened?" She prompted gently.

"It was nothing." He bit back, eyes snapping up to meet her affronted ones.

"I'm just trying to-"

"Well, don't!" He shouted, standing up. She followed suit, meeting his stance in the way she liked to challenge. "I don't need a- a fucking _mind healing_ session. Especially not from you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked indignantly.

Draco raked his fingers through his hair, stopping to tug at the roots.

"Malfoy, I-"

"Look, _Granger_ ," He levelled with her, taking a deep breath and trying his best not to sound like the world's biggest arsehole. "I don't want to talk about it. I don't need your pity."

Hermione's eyes widened in incredulity. "Pity?" She scoffed. "You think I _pity_ you? Don't flatter yourself. To pity the guilty is an insult to the innocent. You don't deserve my pity, Malfoy. You haven't earned it."

Draco stepped back as though she had physically hit him, but the weight of her words was heavier than any measly slap he'd endured at her hands. She was right, of course. That infuriating swot was always right.

Swallowing his pride, Draco spoke softly. "He wanted to see me. To tell me in person how much I've failed him, I suppose."

Her expression softened, and she stepped closer to him. "Well, if it's any consolation, I think this might be the one time that you haven't. Not in the way that counts, at least."

He tried valiantly to swallow the lump at her reassuring words, words that sliced through every layer of skin and muscle and bone and settled directly in his heart. It was an effort in vain, and he turned his head to the side to blink his vision clear out of her line of sight.

When he looked back at her, she was giving him the same expression that he mistook for pity earlier. This time he didn't press it.

"Well, did anything else happen?"

The encounter he witnessed with Theo popped into his mind. "Theo showed up and spoke with my father. He seemed rushed, which is entirely too odd when you pair it with the fact they seemed to work together to begin with."

At his revelation, Hermione's expression brightened. "Theo? As in Theodore Nott?" She questioned, almost breathless.

While Draco didn't understand why information like that would be of any relevance to her at all, he nodded either way.

"Did he say anything to you? What did he want with your father?" Hermione grabbed his forearm, clutching tight as she nodded encouragingly at him.

"No, he didn't say anything to me. Barely fucking looked at me." He scoffed bitterly, shaking his head. "He mentioned needing to move something."

Her gaze dropped, her eyes darting back and forth as though reading a text in her mind. She bit her lip, then looked back at him thoughtfully. "Is that all?"

"Yes, now why do you care so bloody much?" He snapped.

Hermione sighed, dropping his arm and pinching the bridge of her nose. "Nothing." She muttered, beginning to pace the cell.

A thought popped into his head.

"I did overhear something though..." He pondered thoughtfully.

She whirled back around, eyes wild in anticipation. "Well? Go on!" She exclaimed when he didn't elaborate immediately.

Draco rolled his eyes but cooperated anyway. "I dunno, something about Voldemort's snake."

"Nagini?" Hermione pressed, going back to her pacing.

"Yeah."

"Well that could be something..." She was muttering to herself now, so quiet that he struggled to catch the rest of her words.

"Oh, also something about a...what was it..." He searched his brain for the phrase that had caught his attention but confused him even further.

Hermione chewed her lip furiously, arms crossed over her chest with a foot tapping impatiently.

"Spit it out, Malfoy!" She cried.

A light went off in his head. "Hawk cross! Yeah, or something like that. Might be a code or something."

Her eyes widened to the size of saucers, arms falling to her sides.

"What?"

She looked to be having an internal struggle of some sort, before she finally gave up with a sigh and stepped closer to him again. "Are you sure you didn't hear the word _horcrux_?"

Draco's eyebrows furrowed together. "Could be. Should it mean anything?"

"You don't know what a horcrux is?"

Irritation sank it's claws into his chest once more. "Obviously fucking not, seeing as we're currently having this conversation."

Hermione scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well excuse me for assuming someone who comes from a family so notorious for the dark arts doesn't know the darkest of it."

"You'd be wise not to assume fuck all about me, Granger." He spat back, eyes narrowing at her.

"I suppose you're right." She dropped her shoulders with a sigh. "Anyways, a horcrux is a bit of dark magic, the darkest really, and it's something that is vital in tipping the scales."

"Could you quit speaking in tongues for one bloody second?"

She rolled her eyes. "A horcrux is an object, inanimate or otherwise, that houses a piece of a soul."

His confusion only grew. Why would this be relevant to the war? Dark magic existed before Voldemort and would likely exist after, what significance it bore on the outcome he didn't know.

Sensing his confusion, she continued. "Before Dumbledore er...passed away," she grimaced, looking anywhere but at him. Draco stiffened entirely. "He told Harry about horcruxes. How they're only created through the most vile of acts." She took a deep breath and continued. "Killing is against nature's order. It goes against every law and the consequences are reflected onto the individual. When you kill, the soul tears itself apart. If accompanied by the right rituals, you can theoretically latch the ripped piece of your soul onto something."

Draco took a moment to process. "So does that mean you can't-"

"Die." She quickly interjected. He tried not to roll his eyes at the overzealous display of swottiness he had become so accustomed thanks to Hogwarts. "Theoretically, if one's soul is split amongst more than one vessel, the body can be destroyed, but the soul lives on. Theoretically, it's like being proactive enough to not put all of one's eggs into one basket."

" _Theoretically_ ," Draco offered, this time rolling his eyes. "That means that you're immortal?"

She nodded gravely. "Unless the vessels are destroyed, of course."

"So why has this particular bit of gossip got your knickers in a twist?

With a pinched expression, she answered. "Because, if Theodore was speaking of moving a horcrux like you say, then this is a good thing."

Draco shot her an exasperated look. Would this infuriating witch just spill already?

As though reading his mind, she launched into an explanation. "Do you remember the entirety of seventh year? How Harry, Ron and I never showed? We had a task to complete. One that would help us defeat Voldemort once and for all. You see, there's a reason why he has yet to disappear for good. Just when you think he's finally dead, he's back and even stronger than before. It's because of horcruxes, Malfoy. He's split his soul into six pieces total, or what we thought was six. Clearly we missed one because otherwise we wouldn't be in this situation." She grumbled.

"Anyways, we were gone trying to track down all the horcruxes and destroy them, so that when we faced him, we could finally kill him once and for all. We tracked down five and destroyed them all, the sixth being his own piece within his body. We must've missed something, I know it." She furrowed her brows as she gnawed on her lip.

"So you're telling me that Voldemort is one piece away from death?" Draco considered carefully, his mind running at a million thoughts per second. This made infinite sense and put things he struggled to understand into perspective. Of course Voldemort would have the hindsight to ensure a safety net. The snake was a psychopath, but he far from stupid.

Hermione nodded, her eyes twinkling now. "So now with this information you're telling me, it only makes sense that they're in such a rush to move Nagini because she's the missing piece! They're getting desperate, so it must mean Harry is close to ending it all!" She beamed.

In contrast to the first glimpse of hope he saw in her, Draco was filled with nothing but bleak bitterness. Of course the war would have to come to an end. And it was no secret at this point that he wouldn't mind seeing that serpent defeated once and all, but where would that leave him? Hermione would be on top of the world, with a First Class Order of Merlin, do doubt, and more fame than she would know what to do with. Draco had nothing but ostracization at best, and a life under the dirt at worst. Maybe the latter wouldn't actually be the worst, but rather a blessing in disguise.

"Is something wrong?" She asked, her optimistic expression faltering around the edges at his sour one. 

"No, Granger. Nothing is wrong." He spat resentfully.

Her eyes narrowed into slits. "Does something about the prospect of this finally being over at the hands of the Order bother you?"

He scoffed. "Of course not."

"Then what's got your wand in a knot?"

Sod it. He wanted her to feel the way he did. He wanted to selfishly crush the glimmer of hope that burned within her, because that glimmer of hope ensured a future where she wouldn't give him a second glance once they were out of this cell.

"Not all of us are going to come out of this as war heroes, Granger."

Her expression softened abysmally, and she stepped towards him.

Swallowing thickly, he continued. "I've got nothing but a lifetime in Azkaban ahead of me."

She reached for his hand. "Malfoy, that's not true."

"Yes it is!" He exploded, ripping his hand from her gasp. She didn't accept the defeat, reaching for him again and holding on firmly this time.

"No it's not. You and your mother have done enough to hold up in front of the Wizengamot, if not for a complete exoneration then at least for parole."

Draco scoffed, not pulling away but averting his gaze. He shouldn't have expected anything else from the embodiment of Gryffindor. Trust her to try to save him too. When would she understand that the world didn't turn in favour of him? That he could never live in peace, not within himself nor with others.

"I can't say the same for your father, but I-"

"Yeah, well what makes me so different, huh?" He interjected, eyes flashing at hers.

She said nothing but intertwined their fingers and held on harder.

His forehead dropped to hers, the fingers of his free hand brushing her hair off her temple before trailing down to her jaw in a pattern that's become all too familiar. "I won't be able to have anything after this war, let alone anything I want."

"Well what is it you want?" She challenged breathlessly, eyes boring up into his.

"I can't tell you." He murmured, hand settling at the base of her throat as his thumb brushed lightly up and down the side of her neck.

"Then show me."

All the inhibition left Draco's body in a rush that left blood pounding in his ears. Tightening his grip on her throat, he walked her backwards until her back thudded against the stone wall. Her hands flew up to grip the forearm between them, eyes wide. Wide, but not afraid.

He crashed his lips down against hers, bracing his free hand against her hip. Her body responded to his touch immediately, back arching and her chest into his. They moaned simultaneously as Draco took her bottom lip between his teeth, nipping gently before swiping his tongue against it to soothe the sting. Her mouth fell open receptively, allowing Draco to slide his tongue through and against hers.

Her breathing came in shallow breaths at every fleeting break of their lips before the next wave of clashing tongues. Finally, when the restriction to her airflow coupled with the lustful slotting of their lips over and over again became too much, she broke the kiss and let her head fall back against the stone.

"Malfoy," she gasped, but Draco had no intention of cutting it short here. Using the hand braced against her neck, he let it slide up until it was gripping her jaw tightly and dipped his head to plant a kiss under her left ear.

"I won't get this after the war." He murmured between alternating nips and sucks against her neck. She was writhing underneath him, he could feel the desire radiating off of her. If this was the only way she wanted him, he'd let her use him until he had nothing left. "Do you know what that does to me?"

She shook her head, fingers clawing at his forearm. He pulled back to meet her eyes, their lips brushing.

"It fucking kills me."

Hermione whimpered in response, but the sound was swallowed by his mouth as he descended upon her lips again. The hand not gripping her face trailed up and under the hem of her shirt, leaving palpable gooseflesh in its wake. He lifted his hand higher until it was grazing the curve of her breast. He trailed up to her nipple, rolling the taut peak between his thumb and forefinger.

He swallowed every moan and whimper, the sounds sending all of his blood straight to his cock.

Pulling back to swiftly rip the shirt over her head, he dipped his face down to her chest and took a nipple between his teeth. Her hands flew to thread through his hair, pulling sharply. He nipped at it gently, before rolling his tongue around it.

"You want me to show you what you'll be missing, yeah?" He breathed, slowly sinking to his knees. He pressed a kiss to her navel, hands braced against the sides of her thighs, just below her back side. He slid them up around her rear, digging his fingers into her supple flesh before reaching around for the button of her trousers. "I'll fucking show you."

In one fluid motion, he pulled her trousers and knickers down until they pooled at her ankles. One hand on her shin, he guided her to step out of the garments before kicking them aside.

"Malfoy, I-"

He shushed her quickly, his hands kneading the flesh of her backside as he trailed gentle kisses down her stomach and stopping right above the thatch of curls. He looked up at her earnestly, relishing in the way her bare chest rose and fell in a pant, nipples peaked and still glistening from his mouth.

He wanted to see her cunt glisten too.

"Nobody's ever made you feel this way before, isn't that right, Granger?" He murmured, never breaking eye contact as his hands slipped between her cheeks from behind, dipping dangerously close to her core before pulling away and rubbing circles into the flesh of her arse again. He repeated the movement over and over again until she was nearly whining with desperation.

"Isn't that right, Granger?" He repeated, sitting back on his haunches and placing a kiss on a sharp hip bone, hands still caressing her but never giving her what she needed.

She nodded frantically, hands tugging at his hair in a way that was almost painful. It only worked to make his hardness grow.

"Say it." He hissed, fingers pressing her folds together and indirectly applying pressure to her clit.

"Nobody else," she moaned loudly, trying to grind her hips down. "Only you."

Draco hummed in agreement, releasing the pressure and sliding his hands down to the backs of her thighs. "Only me."

Hooking one hand behind her knee and lifting it, he draped it over his shoulder to open her up to him. He kissed the inside of her knee, slowly trailing kisses up her soft thigh. Glancing up at her, his lips formed into a half smirk at the sight of her fierce blush and hooded eyelids. He continued upwards until he met the crease between her leg and pelvis.

"I'm going to make sure you remember that." He breathed against her skin, before finally dipping his mouth between her legs.

Draco couldn't help but moan as his tongue slid all the way from her entrance to the cluster of nerves at the apex of her core. The taste of her sweet arousal sent his head spinning, eyes fluttering shut as he slid his tongue through her folds again, greedy for more.

The sounds coming from above him were wanton and downright _filthy_ , combining with the sharp tugs of his hair and creating an experience that had him wondering if he was going to embarrass himself by coming in his pants. Who could blame him, really?

One hand sliding up and down the thigh hooked over his shoulder, Draco swirled his tongue around her clit teasingly until she was chasing his tongue with her hips and seeking his attention where she needed it most.

Hermione cried out sharply as he finally relented and gave it a firm flick, repeating the action a few times before sliding his tongue down and teasing her entrance with it.

"Oh my god." She choked out, hips angled away from the wall as she ground her hips down against his face. She was so wet that a combination of her arousal and his saliva was beginning to drip down his chin.

Draco hummed in response, dipping his tongue inside and feeling around her warm walls before bringing his attention back up to her clit. When he sucked it into his mouth entirely, her hips bucked almost violently against his face. He opened his eyes as he sucked, looking up at the way her face twisted in pleasure, a continuous stream of 'yes yes yes" falling from her parted lips.

He pulled away when he noticed her eyes squeeze shut, and replaced his mouth with fingers that easily slipped inside of her warmth. "Look at me." He rasped, pumping and curling his fingers inside of her.

She obeyed, looking down at him through heavy lids with lips bitten raw. When her gaze was trained on him, he dipped his head back down and gave her clit firm and steady strokes of his tongue.

This is how he wanted her to remember him. Years down the line, when he would be nothing more than part of a traumatic memory, he wanted her to think back and only see his head between her thighs. To remember the delicious way he'd made her cry aloud and ride his face shamelessly.

And this was how he'd remember her; a squirming and panting goddess above him.

"I'm close." She choked out, hips now rhythmically moving against his all-encompassing ministrations.

He hummed against her, pulling his mouth away to speak as he continued curling his fingers around the spot he knew would help push her over the edge. "Want you to look at me while you come on my tongue." He whispered, eyes locked to hers. "You do wanna come on my tongue, don't you, little witch?"

"Please." She sobbed, nodding her head as she arched her hips, giving him better access to the spot within her. She gasped at the new angle, her walls fluttering around his fingers.

"Good girl." He hummed. "I want you to look at who's doing this to you." Bringing his lips back to her core, he sucked firmly on her clit before flicking the tip of his tongue against it in rhythm with his fingers.

At his words, her movements ceased all at once before her hips gave a stuttered jerk as she crested. Draco slowed his movements to a languid pace, fucking her with his fingers through the endless waves of her orgasm. "Look at you making a mess all over my tongue. That's a good girl."

When she had finally gone limp against the wall, Draco removed his fingers and mouth, gently rubbing up and down her lifted thigh. He stared up at her as he licked his lips, tasting what remained of her arousal on his mouth.

As always, the shamelessness she possessed during was promptly replaced with a misplaced shyness. She covered her face with both hands as she slid her leg off his shoulder.

Draco stood up, knees sore from the unforgiving ground. He gently took hold of her wrists and pulled her hands away from her face. She looked up at him with wide eyes and pink cheeks. He could almost feel his heart melt by the second. Tilting his head down, he pressed his lips against hers in a chaste kiss.

He pulled back, pressing his forehead against hers. He released one of her hands in favour of tucking a curl behind her head and letting his hand linger, thumb brushing against her cheekbone.

Inhaling deeply, he spoke in a soft whisper that he only ever reserved for her. "If I could have one thing after this war, Hermione, it would be you."

Her breath hitched, eyes searching frantically. For what, he would never know. All he knew was that being on his knees and worshipping her had only solidified what he feared deep down. He was locked in. The cement that he'd reserved for his walls had betrayed him, instead choosing to trap him on the spot and force him to look at nothing but her.

It was time to come to terms with the bitter truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More filth, it's my toxic trait :/


	6. six

" _She looked up his gleaming red irises, and knew in that moment that she meant nothing. She offered nothing to him, nothing but the blood viciously thrumming through her veins. Despite that revelation, she still offered him her wrist, watching his eyes flutter shut as he sank his fangs into the flesh. Moaning at the-_ "

"What utter rubbish!" Hermione exclaimed, shrugging out from under Draco's arm. He sighed in annoyance, dog-earing the page before setting the book down.

When he didn't immediately respond, she crossed her arms over her chest and continued. "To think that an author, especially a woman, with the merits of Sybill Slinkhard would stoop to write these pathetic female leads disgusts me. Way to set us back a couple hundred years!"

Draco watched in amusement, one hand resting over the cover and the other absentmindedly drawing circles on her knee.

She huffed, cheeks growing redder by the minute. "I mean honestly, knowing he's only using her and still letting it happen? How are girls ever supposed to understand their worth when this is the kind of gobshite they offer in bookstores?"

"Honestly, Hermione, I'm surprised you of all people would fail to sympathize with her." He shrugged, quirking an eyebrow at her when she met him with a steely gaze.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, she's essentially sacrificing herself for someone she loves. Isn't that all you bloody Gryffindors preach?" He questioned with mock innocence.

"That's entirely different!" She snapped. "She's letting him use her."

"And you haven't done that before?" Draco snorted before he could stop himself, hand freezing on her leg as he realized his slip up.

"Excuse me?" She sputtered, smacking his hand away from her and lifting herself off the bed to stare down at him.

The more Draco thought about it, the more he realized that there were indeed parallels between Hermione and the main character of the book. They both would blindly lay down their lives for the people they love, and give without taking. Hell, just one look at the parasitic relationship she had with the Weasel and Potter would tell you all you need to know.

Never one to back down from a challenge, he shrugged. "It just seems to me like you're projecting, is all."

She barked with harsh laughter, shaking her head in disbelief. "Me? Projecting? That's absolutely hilarious coming from you!"

"And now you're deflecting." He couldn't help it, he loved to challenge her. Loved the way she never succumbed and always shot back a thousand times hotter than he'd dished out. Pansy was never one for debates, no. All she ever wanted to talk about was the latest _Witch Weekly_ or how much his inheritance had amassed.

"I am not!" She seethed. "How dare you compare me to that bint?"

"Just think about your relationship with dumb and dumber." He began, his own irritation rising at the idea of them still out there thanks to her while she was stuck here. "What do they do for you? Because if I recall correctly, all they ever did was use your brain to their advantage without giving you anything in return."

"That's not true!" She cried.

Draco shook his head, nostrils flaring with his growing annoyance. "But it is. Even if you don't want to admit it."

"You're foul." She deadpanned, turning away from him and beginning to pace. Draco stood as well, eyes tracking her movements. "You're foul and you're never content until you've made everybody around you as miserable as you are."

His anger grew, narrowing his eyes at her. "They take you for granted and you know that."

"And what would you know about me, or my friendships?" Hermione exclaimed, whirling around to face him as she halted her pacing.

"It doesn't take a genius to figure out that Weasley and Potter are only still alive because of you. Even now, you're in here paying for their mistakes while they're free." He spoke lowly, moving towards her.

"Well that's just simply not true. I'm here because of my own mistakes!"

"And what, pray tell, would those mistakes be? How _did_ you get yourself caught, Hermione. I've never asked." He challenged, tilting his head up and looking at her down his nose. He knew she absolutely loathed when he did that, she'd voiced it on multiple occasions. But Draco needed her to see, to understand the unfairness of it all. It was vexing him to no extent.

"I- I was foraging." Her voice dropped an octave as she lowered her gaze, fingers reaching up to toy with the hem of her shirt. A habit Draco noticed she engaged in when nervous.

 _Good_.

"Foraging." He repeated, dumbfounded.

"There was a skirmish outside of one of the safehouses, and a lot of people were injured. We were running low on resources, and the black market was inaccessible, so I took it upon myself to search for bubotuber plants." She shrugged simply. Then, as if he didn't know the basic properties of a healing potion, she added, "its pus is highly valuable in various healing potions and ointments."

"So you're telling me that they sent you out there _alone_ , amidst all the snatchers and Death Eaters to pick flowers?" Draco asked incredulously, his indignation growing with his shock. "Are you _trying_ to prove my point?"

"Nobody sent me anywhere! You know I _am_ an autonomous individual capable of taking care of myself!" She huffed in frustration, eyes following as Draco moved to settle against the parallel wall.

"Clearly." He scoffed, unable to help the feeling of satisfaction at her growing ire. That was exactly what he wanted, to make her second guess her blind allegiances and open her eyes to how taken advantage of she really was.

"You know, Malfoy, I don't even know why I'm bothering with you! It was my stupidity that got me here and I don't need to explain myself to you!" She spat, eyes blazing as her hair fanned all around her. You'd think her scalp was actually emitting steam.

Draco shrugged. "The only thing you're stupid for is how blind you are to subpar treatment by your shitty so-called friends."

She stomped up right at him and stuck a finger at his chest, eyes fiercely boring into his. "I'd like to think that my knowledge of my friends and my situation prevails yours, thank you very much!"

There it was. That swotty tone that made him want to preoccupy her mouth with other things to just get her to shut the _fuck_ up.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and let his head fall back against the stone, now looking down at her through hooded eyes.

"So prove it, Hermione. Since you've got such a smart mouth. Open those pretty lips...and prove it."

The words were out before he could stop them, and he briefly considered taking them back and forgetting the whole thing. But it was too late, because Hermione's angry expression morphed into something he couldn't place before a look of determination settled there instead.

Draco swallowed thickly. He was in trouble now.

With a sharp inhale, Hermione sank to her knees much like the way he had for her those weeks ago.

His eyes widened, not having expected her to actually rise to this particular provocation. He should've known better, but before he had a chance to contemplate the ethics of what was happening, her hands had reached for his zipper and were working on freeing him of his trousers.

"Hermione," He breathed, hands pressed against the wall on either side of his hips as she tugged at the zipper. "You don't actually have to-"

" _Prove it._ " She grumbled, as though talking to herself. She slipped the button open and pulled at his trousers. "Oh, i'll prove it alright." She said louder this time, breathless as she stared up at him.

Draco, whose cock has already hardened instantaneously at the sight of her on his knees, felt himself twitch within the constraints of his pants. Without warning, she rid him of those too.

He hissed as the cool air of the cell hit his exposed skin, his length springing up to meet Hermione's eye level. He couldn't help the blush that spread across his cheeks as she gawked at his manhood, her pink tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Gods strike him down if he ever found himself saying anything negative about her stubbornness ever again. It actually so happened to be one of his favourite traits about her, now that he thought about it.

Slowly, she reached for it and wrapped a dainty hand around the base of his shaft, testing the weight of him in her hand.

Draco's mouth fell open, chest rising and falling heavily and she tried a few experimental strokes up his shaft. Timid, but curious.

Sweet fucking Salazar, he wasn't going to last like this at all. He needed to focus on her, but his toes were already curling at the delicious way his stomach was starting to coil. Like a string being wound endlessly.

Hermione reached her free hand up and slid it under his shirt as she slowly pumped him, feeling his abdomen beneath her fingers. She smiled, fucking _smiled_ , up at him as his muscles involuntarily tensed and he twitched in her hand.

She rocked forward on her knees slightly, the closer she was getting to his cock the more sensitive he felt himself become to her touch. A gasp ripped its way out of his throat as she innocently looked up at him, thumb swirling the pearly fluid collecting at his tip around the head.

"Hermione." he choked out, nails scraping at the wall as he fought the urge to keep his hips still.

Her smile only sweetened, fisting his length with more pressure. "Want me to stop?" She asked, and he almost scoffed out loud. Was this witch crazy?

She didn't wait for a response, though, opting to ease up slightly and lick at the head of his length like it was one of her bloody sugar quills.

Draco could barely breathe. It seemed that the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Still, he somehow managed a shaky "fuck" as her lips finally wrapped around him.

He didn't think he'd ever seen a more beautiful sight in his life, and he couldn't stop himself from reaching forward and brushing the hair off her temple as her lips gradually stretched around and down his shaft.

When she flattened her tongue against the base and slowly lifted upwards, suctioning him in a way that had him groaning out loud, his hips snapped forward causing him to hit the back of her throat. They both froze for a moment as her throat constricted tightly around him, making him pant with want. Then, as though giving him permission, she placed her hands on the backs of his thighs and pulled.

"Fucking hell." Draco breathed, forgetting all of his inhibitions and losing control into the back of her throat, making her gag and squeeze her eyes shut. He watched sweat begin to glisten at her hairline as he released moan after moan. He couldn't believe the sounds she was eliciting from his lips.

Watching her head bob up and down his length enthusiastically, eyes never leaving his, had the string coiling tighter and tighter in the pit of his stomach.

For a moment he briefly closed his eyes and contemplated whether it was more embarrassing to come too early or to pass out before he'd come at all.

His musings were promptly cut short by a particularly loud choking sound, and he fluttered his eyes open to find tears welling in her wide eyes as she greedily swallowed him down.

"You look so pretty like this." He groaned, fingers tightening in her hair as he snapped his hips up to meet her pulls. "With my cock in your mouth. Knew I could shut you up."

She hummed in response, the vibrations shooting straight up the length of him and settling within the coil in the pit of his stomach.

"Just like that, that's a good girl." He repeated so many times that he lost track, entirely sure he sounded like a broken record by this point but unable to keep the obscenities from spilling out of his lips. "Fuck- just like that!"

Her fingernails dug into his skin, no doubt leaving marks, making him groan loudly as the acute pain mingled with the pure bliss shooting up his spine and alighting every last nerve of his on fire.

She pulled back for a moment, panting heavily as she licked her lips and pumped him furiously with both hands. He threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut, fingernails scraping at her scalp with how roughly he was holding on. Then, she dipped her head down again and ran her tongue up from the base to the tip in a rhythm that made him moan and roll his hips into her touch.

"I'm almost there. You're taking my cock so well, like a good fucking girl." He panted, looking down at her again. Her expression of eagerness was still visible even when she wrapped her swollen lips around him again and began bobbing her head up and down, basking in the praise. "You're gonna make me come." He was whining now, hips picking the pace back up and slamming into her mouth.

He relished in the sounds of her gagging, spit spilling from the sides of her mouth and tears freely flowing down her cheeks now. But if Hermione was anything, she was determined, and at this moment he couldn't have been more grateful.

The string was wound so tight now, he was sure it was on the verge of snapping at any moment.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come right in that mouth. Shut you up for good. Gods, you look so fucking beautiful." Draco babbled nonsensically, tugging her head down as he chased the climax that was already fast approaching. It was quickly starting to seep out from his center, reaching for the tips of his nerves and setting him on fire.

Then, when she pulled up and flicked her tongue against the underside of his head, the string snapped suddenly. His orgasm ripped through him in a way he'd never felt before, eyes rolling to the back of his head as his mouth fell open.

"Fuck!" He shouted, hips stuttering as he held her down and pulsed in hot spurts into her waiting mouth.. "That's it, all down that pretty little throat. That's a fucking good girl." He growled, watching her struggle to swallow with the way her mouth was already filled up.

When the waves had finally subsided, he slumped against the wall.

As she pulled off with an obscenely wet sound, Draco took a moment to catch his breath and tug his trousers back up.

 _Fucking Circe_. Did that really just happen? As he blinked the fogginess out of his mind and looked down again he conceded that yes, it indeed just did.

Hermione wiped her thumb against the corner of her lip in a display that would've made him stir again had he not been entirely boneless. Clasping her hands around the back of his neck, she pulled him down and into a deep kiss, forcing him to taste himself. He groaned into her mouth at the eroticism, gripping her hips tightly.

When she had kissed him dizzy, she pulled back and gave him a signature smug look. "Prove myself to you, did I?" She boasted, looking entirely too proud of herself. Draco figured he'd let her have her victory here. After all, she had sucked it out of his very soul.

"I don't know, I might need another go to make sure." He smirked down at her, chucking quietly as she rolled her eyes.

Suddenly, her expression creased in between her brows and tugged at the corners of her mouth downwards. "I know you and my friends don't see eye to eye." She started, looking up at him with a vulnerability he hadn't seen since the day she let him bathe her.

His frown matched hers as he rubbed circles into her hips, nodding curtly in encouragement.

"And while I may not entirely agree, I do see where you're coming from." She said with a weak shrug. "It's just that...I just- I don't-"

"It's okay." Draco interjected as her eyes began to well with a fresh wave of tears. He slid his hands up her body and thumbed away at her tears. Riling her up was one thing, but it was his last intention to make her cry. "I understand. I'm sorry," his voice cracked at the apology, one that felt foreign coming out of his mouth. "I shouldn't have pushed you."

She nodded, leaning her head forward and pressing her forehead against his chest. Draco held her for a while, hands running all over the expanse of her back as he tried to project his feelings through his tender touch. Though they hadn't directly spoken about Draco's confession after last time, the wariness that always hung like a dark cloud ready to rain on their parade had started to dissipate. The shame she carried had eased, and while it instilled him with hope, it also made his chest tighten at the thought of what he would be missing if they ever made it out.

They didn't break out of their embrace until the sounds of footsteps ringing down the corridor, causing them to snap their gazes up to each other and exchange an anxious look.

Draco was about to protectively brace her behind him, but then he noted that the footsteps were a lot quieter, resembling a rapt click that felt all too familiar instead of the heavy thuds of Greyback's boots. It seemed Hermione had the same idea, because she was pushing him gently towards the cell door in encouragement.

Narcissa appeared before them and for the first time in Draco's life, he saw what she looked like dishevelled. Her robes were askew, and the perfectly coiffed chignon at the back of her head was lopsided, blonde strands falling to frame her face. She looked absolutely terrified.

"Mother." Draco breathed, rushing up to the door and wrapping his fingers around the bars. The older witch let out a sob, causing panic to rip through him like a riptide. He had never seen her cry like this either. "What's wrong?"

His mother wrapped her smaller hands overtop Draco's on the bar, leaning her head towards the metal. "Draco, I'm so sorry that I failed you."

He shook his head, removing one hand from underneath hers and clasping his fingers around hers instead. "There's nothing you could do. You didn't-"

"He's coming." She interrupted, breathless as she stared up with petrified eyes.

Draco heard Hermione draw a sharp breath from behind him as he swallowed thickly. "Who's coming?" But he didn't need her to speak to know the answer. He could feel in the way her hands trembled.

"The Dark Lord." She said, a fresh wave of tears spilling down her cheeks and streaking them with kohl. "The anniversary of the battle, it's next week and he wants to host a feast. Here."

Before he could even open his mouth to respond, Narcissa was ripping her hands from his and reaching for her robe pocket. "We have no time, I have to get you two out." She muttered under her breath. "I came straight away, as soon as I knew. Stand aside, Draco."

Draco's eyes darted all over her small and shaking frame as she raised her wand arm. "What are you doing?" He whispered, eyes wide. "You'll be hung for this. Stop!"

"It's not unlocking." She whimpered. "Why isn't it unlocking?"

"Mother!"

"The wards." She whispered, eyes horrified as she met Draco's gaze again. She was starting to scare him now with her urgency. "They must have altered the wards. Oh Circe, what do I do?" She began fiddling at the lock with her hands, pulling with no give at all. It was like she had finally come unhinged.

"Please stop!" Draco pleaded, eyes welling up at the sight of his mother like this. When she did, he continued shakily. "Why do you need to get us out so fast?"

"Because," Narcissa began gravely, her eyes finally moving past her son's face and towards a silent Hermione. They filled with pity instantly.

"He wants you two to be the guests of honour."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, couldn't help myself!


	7. seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao y'all this chapter is shameless pwp (or maybe a lil plot)

It's much later in the night, well after Narcissa had left in a sobbing heap, that Hermione finally spoke. He had stumbled back in a daze, and sat on the bed next to the silently weeping girl, rubbing her back in robotic circles and saying nothing at first. Then, when the initial shock had subsided, the alarm set in. Draco had spent hours trying to get something -anything- out of her, panic swelling up inside him in a way that had his hands trembling long after his mother's revelation.

"We're gonna die." She whispered from one side of the bed, leaning her back against the wall with her legs hugged to her chest.

Draco, who was sitting a few feet away from her in a similar position, grimaced. "Don't say that."

She looked up at him, eyes glazed over and rimmed with an angry red. He could almost feel a tangible facture crack sharply through his heart at the sight. He'd failed her. He promised her that he wouldn't let anybody hurt her, and now that snake would be making an example out of them and there was nothing he could do. He wanted nothing more than to take her away and hide her; keep her all to himself.

"We are." She sniffled, head falling back against the wall as she blinked visible tears. She covered her face with her hands, letting a few quiet sobs out. 

Draco scooted up the bed until he was in front of her on his knees and grabbed hold of her wrists. He tugged them gently away from her face, meeting her gaze with a hardened look. "You're not going to die." He said firmly.

Hermione shook her head, wrists limp in his hold. "I am. He wants a show, Malfoy. What better than stringing up Harry's best friend and making an example out of me? I'm going to die, then he's going to get you next. I don't want us to die. I'm not ready to die." She sobbed, collapsing forward into his lap.

Draco blinked back tears of his own as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her shaking body firmly within his grasp. He murmured words of reassurance in her ear, stroking her hair through her distress. He fought back his own onslaught of tears, trying to compartmentalize his fear to make room for Hermione's first. His occlumency was getting harder and harder to control by the day, despite his natural affinity for it. These days the only thing he could spare his energy on was her, and he'd be damned if he found himself unable to do so because he was too busy selfishly living his life in an occluded haze while she carried all the weight herself. Being there was all he could do for her, and he'd gladly take her pain and tuck it within himself somewhere safe.

"They'd have to take mine first if they want yours." He whispered, pulling his head back for a moment to trace a finger down her face as he spoke. "I won't watch them hurt you. Not this time." He vowed, voice trembling and sincere. A few tears glistened down her cheeks, and he made quick work of wiping them away.

Inhaling shakily, Hermione grabbed the hand that was still caressing her face and nuzzled it, letting her eyes flutter shut. "I'm not ready. There's so much I haven't done."

Draco shook his head, dipping his head down to press a firm kiss to her wet lips. He was overcome by the taste of her salty tears, and coaxed her mouth open with his in an attempt to swallow up the taste completely and take it away from her. She kissed back fervently, like she was running out of time, because perhaps she was.

He pulled back and pressed their foreheads together. "Tell me."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Tell you what?"

"Tell me what you haven't done, and I'll make sure you make it out and do it all."

Hermione breathed a laugh, the sound coming out all wrong with the undercurrents of her bitterness. "I want to be able to live my life without constantly looking over my shoulder. I'd like to travel someplace far where nobody knows me. I'd like to visit the Bodleian Library, and not because I need to research another thing that could help me keep Harry alive. I'd like to see my parents again, and tell them I'm sorry. I want to fall in love, Malfoy. I want to let myself fall in love." She smiled sadly, shaking her head in Draco's gentle hands.

He cocked his head to the side in confusion. "Fall in love? But I thought-"

"No." She interjected shortly. "Ron and I, it wasn't meant to be. I thought I was in love with him, but it turned out that I only loved him. It was too convenient."

Draco let that revelation simmer for a moment, undermining everything he thought he knew about her. It wasn't even a question to him that Hermione would end up with Weasley- he'd seen them holding hands at that battle and had watched their relationship morph from the sidelines all throughout their schooling years. It had been the basis of many of his spats with her, and yet she had never corrected him. An aching sort of yearning coursed through him, fuelled by a misplaced sense of hope. If Weasley was out of the picture, was there any chance for them at all?

"I want-" Hermione started breathlessly, eyes suddenly staring into his with an intensity he could scarcely handle. She quieted after a stammer for the right words, then dropped her gaze.

Draco swallowed thickly. "What do you want?' He whispered, trailing his finger under her chin and lifting her face back up.

"It's awfully silly of me." She backtracked, lightly tracing aimless patterns onto his forearm.

"You can tell me." He reassured.

Without warning, Hermione flung her arms around Draco's neck with a force that knocked him off balance and onto his back. His arms instinctively fell to her hips where he gripped tightly and suddenly, she was kissing him. Once, twice and again until he realized that he'd never have enough. She grabbed at his scruffy jaw with desperate hands and passionately slotted their lips over and over again. She was everywhere, kissing him harder until their teeth were clashing and his lips were throbbing. Every sweet gasp of air into his lungs further warmed his skin and every swipe of her tongue against his warmed his soul. He couldn't get enough.

Kissing him with a fevered urgency he'd never know before.

Pulling back for a much needed lungful of air, Draco pushed their foreheads together and searched her eyes.

"I'm a virgin." She blurted suddenly, eyes going wide as though she couldn't believe the words slipped out of her mouth.

Draco's own eyes matched her surprise. A lump formed in his throat as her face coloured brilliantly, a swollen lip being sucked between her teeth.

"I-" He began, not knowing where to take this. Not knowing where she wanted to take this.

"I don't want to be one. Not anymore."

Draco shook his head adamantly as her request clicked into place in her mind. He couldn't do that to her, take away something she had clearly valued enough to wait for. Something that she was settling to do because she didn't want to die without it. "I- I can't, Hermione. I won't take that away from you, not because-"

She cut him off with another kiss, this time like she was pleading with her lips. "Please, Malfoy. I want this."

"Hermione, I want to but I can't. It's not supposed to be me." He tried to reason, though his head was already spinning at the prospect and he was stirring down south. He pushed them up into a seating position where she was straddling him, feeling much too vulnerable underneath her to be of sound mind.

"But I want it to be you!" She protested, tangling her hands in his hair and tugging him forward to meet in the middle. He broke apart after a second of kissing her, gasping as he turned his head to the side. He wanted to be there for her, he wanted to let her use him however she needed but this felt like a step too far. A step that he wouldn't be able to recover from should she decide she didn't want him anymore.

 _When_ she decides she doesn't want him anymore.

"Hermione," He pleaded, voice cracking as she took hold of his face and angled it back towards her. She nuzzled their noses together for a moment, the ghost of her lips brushing his.

"Please, Draco."

At the use of his given name rolling so broken and needy off her tongue, Draco's resolve finally crumbled. He tilted his chin to close the gap, kissing her tenderly. She melted under his touch instantly, turning into a puddle in his arms. He ran his hands all over every part of her that he could reach, trying to keep her from seeping through the cracks of his faulty hold.

Rocking forward on his knees, Draco shifted so that Hermione was underneath him with legs bracing his sides as he nestled against her. He kissed her gently, wanting to savour the moment and let it cultivate unhurriedly.

It seemed that they were both content with pretending that the urgent air of desperation between them was non-existent.

Breaking the kiss to focus on her neck instead, he nipped gently down the column of her throat, soothing the intrusions with soft licks as she gasped above him. Her hands tangled themselves firmly in his hair as though she had no intention of letting him go any time soon, and Draco let himself nuzzle into her touch contentedly.

"Oh-" Hermione mewled when he sucked sharply on the particularly sensitive juncture where her shoulder met her neck. He hummed in response, pulling back to admire his handiwork as she panted below him.

Tugging at her shirt experimentally, he released a breath when she nodded eagerly and lifted the top over her head with a small arch in her back, exposing herself to him. Draco inhaled sharply at the sight, one that he would never get used to no matter how many times he'd have the privilege of looking. All smooth olive skin, flushed ever so beautifully with a tinge of red. Despite -or perhaps _because_ of- being marred with scars he could not dream to count, she was perfect.

"Perfect." He voiced aloud, propping himself up to get a better look. His groin stirred further at the sight of her nipples pebbling instantly at his piercing gaze, and he let his free hand trail down her neck to the dip between her breasts.

Hermione pulled her lip between her teeth, the bashful look on her face giving more to something coy in the way her fingers tugged his face down towards her chest. Getting the hint, Draco dipped his head down and gave a quick flick of his tongue to one of her nipples, smirking as she moaned loudly at the contact. He palmed at her other breast as his tongue worked expertly around the other, trousers growing more uncomfortable with every flagrant push of her hips against his.

Groaning against her chest, he trailed his free hand down her front until it was over her hip and pushed down firmly, effectively halting her hips. "Easy, love." He breathed, giving her nipple a gentle tug before laving over it.

She whined in response, but Draco was determined to take his time. For a fleeting moment, he thought back to a much different experience with a similar situation, but with Pansy instead. He shuddered inwardly at the messy and quick exchange of virtues, back in their fifth year towards the end stretch of a nightly Inquisitorial Squad patrol. He recalled the way he ignored her scrunched up face of pain, opting to take the more convenient path of taking her word for it when she insisted she was fine in haste for selfish relief.

Not time time, though. This time he would make it perfect, because Hermione deserved no less. He'd prove to her that, despite still being flabbergasted at her choice of _him_ , she wasn't making a mistake.

With a renewed sense of determination, he sat back on his heels, still nestled between her legs. She huffed at the loss of warmth pressed to her, but was instantly appeased at the sight of Draco reaching for the waistband of her pants. Her hands were splayed on either side of her flushed face, chest heaving and lips parted in anticipation. His eyes never left her face as he swiftly pulled her pants down, gently rolling the fabric over each ankle until she was in nothing but her knickers, spread before him. For him.

He placed his hands on her knees, unable to contain the smugness he felt at the instantaneous rise of gooseflesh, running them slowly down her inner thighs before smoothing over the front and coming back up around the outside. He repeated his motions as he spoke. "I don't want you to have to regret this."

She arched her back towards him in response, using her feet to push her hips off the bed. Draco's hands slide around her exposed backside of their own volition, kneading her flesh. "I won't." She stated firmly, voice breathy and cracking around the edges.

Nimble fingers dipping beneath her waistband, he made quick work of her knickers before settling back into the same massaging motion as before, this time letting his hands wander dangerously close. He could feel her heat radiating whenever his fingers dipped towards her pelvis, and it did wonders for the hardness in his pants that was already making him dizzy.

Hermione's hands twirled the hair that was splayed out all around her head like a halo between her fingers, an impatient clip to the tempo of her movements. She said nothing but continued to whine and whimper every time he got close.

Finally, when even he had had enough of his own teaching, he brushed his knuckles against her sex ever so lightly, groaning deeply at the smug wetness that coated the back of his hand. Her ran his pointer and middle fingers through her folds, from her entrance all the way to the top. Repeating his movements was all too easy, her arousal doing an exceptional job of helping his fingers slide through her heat.

"You're so fucking wet." He groaned, his other hand still running up and down her thigh. "Is this all for me?"

Above him, he watched as Hermione's hands struggled for purchases everywhere; her hair, the sheets on either side of her head before finally resting over her breasts. She nodded, lips parted and jaw slack. He watched in awe as she tweaked her nipples in time with his languid strokes of her clit, applying more pressure in tandem with his ministrations.

"Say it." He demanded, pressing his thumb directly under the hood of her exposed clit, ripping a loud cry from her throat.

"All for you." She sobbed, hands gripping her own mounds tightly. Draco hummed in satisfaction.

Slowly, he pressed his middle finger into her entrance, sucking in a sharp breath as her walls clenched at the intrusion and coaxed him inside. He curled his finger inside of her, brushing against the velvety bundle of flesh that he knew would have her toes curling. With his other hand, he circled her clit in a torturous rhythm.

"Malfoy." Hermione whimpered, hands desperately kneading her breasts as she ground down onto his hands. "You're gonna make me come." It was a drawn out whine, one that made Draco throw his head back and imagine her whining like that with him inside her.

Encouraged by her words, Draco removed the hand on her clit and scooted down until he was face to face with her dripping cunt. "I wanna taste you." He rasped, not waiting for a response before swiping the flat part of his tongue against her apex and groaning at her sweet taste. She cried out above him, hands flying to tangle through his hair as he began lapping at her in sync with his curling fingers.

"Oh my- oh my _god_! I can't, Malfoy- mm." She moaned, tugging so hard that reflexive tears sprang to the corner of his eyes. Tasting her like this was his absolute favourite way to bring her, and her jerky movements only encouraged him to slip another finger in alongside the first and pump faster.

"Mhm?" He hummed, his free hand roaming past her backside and up the back of her thigh, settling behind her knee where he pushed to pry her open even further. "You want to come, Hermione?"

She nodded frantically, riding his face with no abandon as her movements turned shaky. He knew she was reaching her brink, so he maintained his pace and watched as she shattered above him with a broken cry.

"Fuck, Hermione." He swore, pulling his face back to watch her face through the phases of her orgasm, fingers still working her through it. "That's it, love. Just like that." He cooed, turning his head to the side to press a kiss to the inside of her thigh.

When the aftershocks had subsided, Draco was surprised to find Hermione desperately clawing at his shirt, forcing him back up to her level.

"Now." She gasped, tugging the hem of his shirt up and sliding her hands underneath. Draco hissed at the cold intrusion, muscles tensing under her roaming touch. "Off." She demanded, eliciting a breathless laugh from him at her all too familiar bossy tone. Obliging, he pulled back and had barely gotten his shirt over his head when Hermione grabbed his neck and roughly pulled him down to crash her lips against his.

Draco's mind was reeling, no doubt from the lack of blood that had currently taken residence below his belt, but he kissed her back with as much passion as she was demanding, and then some. He touched her everywhere he could, both of their movements as frantic as the tongues sloppily rolling around between them.

When she reached for his button, he pulled back with a sharp gasp for breath, halting her hand. "Hermione..." he began, but she was already shaking her head in protest and this time when her fingers reached for his button, he let her.

With a considerable amount of fumbling and growls of frustration from Hermione, she had managed to get his trousers and pants down until they bunched around his knees. Draco rid himself of them the rest of the way before settling back in between her legs. He was now hyper aware of the hardness that was pressed between them, a blush tinting his cheeks at their first skin to skin contact.

It seemed Hermione was on a similar wavelength, because her hurried movements also ceased all at once. He could hear her gulp audibly as she stared up into his eyes, her expression open and vulnerable and so damn _inviting_. With timid fingers much different than those from a few moments before, she reached down between them and grasped him in her hand. Draco hissed through his teeth, his cock feeling too swollen and ready for her in her small palm. She stroked slowly for a few moments, before she started guiding the tip up and down her slick folds.

Suddenly feeling hesitant with their intended actions, Draco reached down and grabbed her wrist once again. "Hermione, are you sure?" He asked, his voice coming out meak and unsure in a way he'd never expressed outwardly before. It must've shown, because Hermione's expression melted and she tilted her chin up to capture his lips in a sweet kiss.

When she pulled back, her face was set in determination. "Malfoy, I-"

Draco cut her off with a firm shake of his head. "No. If I'm doing this to you, I want to hear you say my name."

A shy smile played at her lips. "Please, _Draco_." She emphasized, and perhaps it was the all too natural way it rolled off her tongue with a familiarity it couldn't have possibly known that had him releasing her wrist.

Once he was positioned at her entrance, she retracted her hand and let it meet the other behind his neck. She earnestly stared up at him, and with one final nod, Draco found himself slowly pushing in.

Draco watched her face intently as he gently breached her entrance with the tip of his length. The warm tightness that engulfed him was already over crowding his senses, but when he looked down at her with timidness, she only nodded him on. He steadily gave her inch by inch, watching her face contort but never give way to actual pain.

Halfway through, he stopped at a particularly sharp gasp from her. "Are you okay? We can stop if you-"

"No." She breathed, grabbing his face and pulling him in for a deep kiss, coaxing him in ever so slowly under he was buried inside of her completely.

Beads of sweat worked their way to the surface of his hairline at the all-encompassing feeling of Hermione engulfing him absolutely _everywhere_. The desperation in her kiss, the way the scent of her arousal was overwhelming when combined with the faint sage; and he could do nothing but let curse words roll off his tongue as he tried to adjust to her vice-like grip.

"Fuck, Hermione." He groaned after parting her lips with a gasp. "You're so fucking tight."

"Move." she whimpered. "Please."

Cursing again, Draco pulled out most of the way before gently rocking back in. "Are you-"

"For Morgana's sake, Draco! Enough!" She snapped, eyes blazing in a haze of determination. "I'm not going to break!"

Draco recoiled at her tone, still hilted inside of her, and cocked his head to the side. As she continued to huff in her flush, a smirk slid all too naturally onto his face as he dipped down to kiss the scowl off her mouth. "Sorry, love. Just- promise you'll let me know if it's too much"

With a sheepish look at her outburst, Hermione rocked her hips up encouragingly with a nod. "I promise."

Feeling reassured at her resolve, Draco set about rolling into her at a steady pace, pulling out completely before burying himself back into her. He could feel the strain in his muscles transform into a different kind of taut tension, one that burned deliciously and caused his lashes to flutter in vain of keeping his eyes open. Underneath him, Hermione was slowly starting to melt with every firm stroke until she was timidly rocking up to meet his thrusts.

It was taking everything in him to not lose all control and fuck her till her wits end. Hermione was plateauing as well, and he could tell she needed more by the needy way she grabbed at his face and crushed their lips together. Draco kept his eyes half open, sneaking a guilty peek at her every time he came back for air, just to make sure this wasn't a product of his imagination

"Please, Draco." She begged in a breathless voice. "I don't want you to hold back." The sin dripping from her voice was too much, and Draco had no choice but to growl in his haze of lust and oblige. He pulled back, chest sticky with their combined sweat from where they were pressed flush together. His hands found the backs of her knees, and he pushed down to open her up before slamming into her with a force that had wrought iron clanging against stone with every thrust.

"You feel so perfect." He groaned, hips snapping faster. "You feel so _fucking_ perfect."

He could feel her nails clawing down his chest wherever she could reach, but the pain was blurring with the pleasure and it had his stomach in knots. Every snap of his hips elicited a whimper from Hermione that further sent jolts up his spine and had his fingers digging deeper into the flesh behind her thighs. It was on the brink of too much.

Hurtling close to the edge with every stroke, Draco opened eyes he did not remember closing to watch the screwed up expression on Hermione's face in admiration. He brushed a damp curl out of her face, stroking down the length of her jaw as he moaned, "You're so fucking beautiful. You're gonna come like this aren't you?"

"Yes, God, _yes_!" Hermione sobbed, hands finally settling over his own against her thighs as she tried to stabilize herself. The shift in angles must have worked wonders, because she was crying out with no abandon in the next second. "Right there! _Please_ , Draco, right there. There, there, there- oh my-" She was blabbering in choked out incoherent senses, and Draco's own coil tightened at her inhibited proclamations of pleasure.

"Yeah?" He breathed, muscles going sore with how stiff he was trying to be in order to maintain the exact angle that made Hermione a mess. "Right there? You want it _there_?" He emphasized the last word with a particularly sharp thrust.

"Please." She nodded, curls flying everywhere as she dug her nails into the back of his hands. "Please, please, _please_!"

Draco groaned loudly as the edge came into sight, willing himself to hold out until she had thrown herself off first. "You're such a good girl, Hermione. Asking so nicely. Such a good _fucking_ girl."

"Draco, I can't- I'm gonna-"

"You can do it." He breathed, snaking a hand around her thigh to rub circles against her clit. "Come on, Hermione. Let me see you come for me again."

At the combined sensations, Hermione finally went stiff underneath him for a split second before throwing her head back with a loud scream of his name.

"Fuck!" Draco growled as her walls clenched around him, sending him straight off the precipice as the coil in his stomach finally snapped. His vision blurred as he jerked into her one, two, three times before emptying into her in hot spurts. Dropping down on his elbows, he buried his face in her neck and kissed sloppily as he rocked them through their orgasms, both panting and sticky and satiated.

Hermione's thighs, which had clenched around his hips through her release, fell limp on either side of him. The only sound in the room was their heavy breathing as their heaving chests rose and fell against one another, trying to catch their breath.

"Holy shit." Draco groaned against her salty skin, lifting his hips to pull out and give himself room to collapse on one side of her. He had never felt so thoroughly _fucked_ in all his life.

She rolled into his side, resting her head on his outstretched bicep and placing her hands on his sweaty chest. "I agree." She whispered, voice hoarse.

Suddenly, with Hermione curled into his side and with nothing but the weight of what they'd just done lingering around like a blanket over them, Draco felt it hit him. Something that knocked the breath out of his lungs without physically touching him. It was that moment that the words barrelled to the forefront of his brain, demanding to make themselves known. It was also then that Draco realized that he was tired of pushing them back.

"Hermione," He choked out. "I-"

As though she could sense it, Hermione propped herself up on one elbow and clapped her hand to his mouth. She shook her head furiously, tears welling in her eyes. " _Don't_." She said sharply. "Please. You can't." Her wide eyes bore into his with an overwhelming emotion he didn't know how to place.

"Okay." Was his simple response, and he hoped to the Gods that she couldn't hear his heart plummet to the ground through his voice.

No other words were exchanged for the remainder of the night. Draco didn't think he could stomach a conversation after the rejection.

It's only later, after they've fallen asleep and woken each other up with a lazy romp between the sheets, that Hermione acknowledges him properly.

They lay side by side, chests heaving as a result of their excursion when she twisted and tucked her hand under the thin mattress. Draco craned his neck to try to get a better view, but all he could see was the smooth expanse of her naked back. He flushed brightly at the normalized nakedness before them, and quickly tried to disperse the blood that was starting to drain south again.

By the time he'd recollected himself, Hermione was sitting up straight with her legs crossed beneath her and the blanket covering her lap. Draco followed suit, eyes curiously drawn to her enclosed fists.

"It's- it's nothing, really" She began timidly, cheeks aflame. "I just wanted to- just here." She finally bit out, thrusting her now open palm towards him.

Quirking an eyebrow up, Draco glanced down at her outstretched hand to see a wad of white strings. Upon a closer inspection, he deduced that those were the very same strings that enclosed their food parcels. The ones Hermione insisted on collecting. More confused than before, he reached out and thumbed the thin twine before taking it from her.

"I braided it." She rushed out, fingers picking at her cuticles as she looked up at him expectantly. 

So she did. Unfurling it, Draco could see that the wad was actually an intricate series of knots plaited into a dainty braid from countless pieces of separate twine and was about six inches long. "It's a bracelet?" He deadpanned with a blank expression.

Hermione somehow managed to flush darker, her embarrassment apparent in the way she couldn't sit still. "It's not a _bracelet_." She huffed indignantly.

Now amused, he studied the braids carefully. His heart swelled with the same overwhelming feeling from last night. "Then what is it, Hermione?" He drawled, a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

"I don't know! I didn't really have much to work with, obviously." She rolled her eyes. "I just wanted you to have it, just in case."

The warmth filling Draco froze instantly, his jaw tightening. "In case what?"

Hermione made a frustrated noise as she grabbed the bracelet from him and grabbed his wrist with her other hand. Draco didn't protest when she rested his hand on her lap, watching as she looped the string around his left wrist and tied it with a small knot.

She gave him a hopeful smile once he was wearing her creation, and Draco couldn't help the twitch of his own lips. 

Her expression brightened suddenly, as though remembering something. "I have one for me too!" She twisted back and dug underneath the mattress before coming up with an identical roped bracelet to the one he had one. "Put it on me?" She asked meekly, lip between her teeth.

Unable to stop his grin this time, Draco took the bracelet from her and reached for her hand, stopping when she presented him with her foot instead.

"On my ankle please." She amended.

Chuckling quietly to himself, Draco grabbed her by the calf and gently yanked her towards him, smirking at the yelp she emitted. He swiftly fastened the braided twine around her ankle, leaning back to observe the white contrast against her tawny skin.

There was something to be said about this blatant display of care in contrast to her refusal of last night's unspoken confession. A confession that once again hung heavily between them, contaminating the air and glaringly mocking him. Fed up with the air between them, he closed the gap and pressed his lips against hers firmly, melting into her mouth when she slid her hands up his arm and settled them around her neck.

Pulling back, Hermione pressed her forehead against his and Draco's heart panged at the prevalent tears in her eyes.

"You'll be alright." He whispered shakily, thumbs swiping under her eyes before the tears had even been shed. "I won't let them hurt you. I promise. Just follow my lead and I'll keep you safe."

"How?" She whimpered, nuzzling into the palms against her cheeks. "You can't control what happens out there."

"I'd die before I sit by and watch again." His voice was firm now, and his eyes attempted to communicate to her the words that she refused to be said aloud. "You hear me?"

Hermione nodded weakly, eyes fluttering shut when Draco pressed another firm kiss to her lips.

"Just be strong, Hermione." He begged against her lips. "Be strong and stay with me."


End file.
